War of the Ancients
by Red Mage 04
Summary: [Sequel to Risen Demon.] Cast out, Jak struggles to survive and a baptism by fire approaches as the Fallen return. The fate of the world will rest on three people: two Channelers, one light, one dark, and a Precursor determined not to fail again. JK TA DT
1. Exile

(Phases into existence, his face hidden within the cowls of his robes)

Greetings, one and all, and I hope that you are having a splended day. Little nervous right now, as this is my first time ever writing a sequel to any of my works, and I fear that I might somehow trip over my feet...or run out of steam. I know that I said that this story would be posted one week from today, but by insipration and a now smoldering keyboard, I was able to finish it in time. I apologize for the short length of the chapter, and I want to warn you in advance that it will be a little while before I start cranking out the 8000+ word chapters you might be used to by now.

Also, for those of you who have not read the prequel story, Risen Demon , I highly suggest that you do so, otherwise you will likely be very, very confused, as while this is a Jak 3 novelezation, it is almost an AU story. Changes will include sequences of events, the roles that certain characters will play, the deaths of some random OCs, heaps of Veger torture, and Damas most likely surviving, as what N.D. was beyond evil. Also, if luck holds out, the story will climax with a massive, 3-4 chapter Pelinor Fields style showdown between the elves, the Precursors, the Metal Heads, and the Fallen Ones, so wish me luck, I'm going to need it. Also, for those of you who are aware of the changes that I've made to teh Precursors, you can expect to see Daxter 'suiting up' later on towards the end, and he will get his own chance to shine.

To all lawyers: I own nothing of this story save what my demented little mind has managed to cook up. (and so the disclaimers begin again)

That said, let the story commence, and may you hopefully find it worth your while.

* * *

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* * *

War of the Ancients

* * *

Exile

Skimming over the top of the desert, the blue armored drop ship flew at top speed into the rising sun.

One might have wondered what the craft was doing so far out in the Wasteland, as the constantly shifting winds and unpredictable sandstorms made the journey a hazardous one to say the least. Plus, all the little particles of dirt and whatnot tended to really screw with the craft's engines.

That confusion wouldn't really have dissipated all that much once one looked inside of the craft, and beheld its occupants.

Ashelin Praxis, Governess of Haven City, looked over at the pair of blue armored soldiers, who kept looking back at each other, neither one apparently thrilled about having pulled this duty. She could sympathize with them, as she looked over to the prisoner who was about to get dumped into this hell on Gaia.

Most simply knew this particular elf by his reputation, and by the rumors spread about him. It was said that he had been a murderer, imprisoned by her father, the now late General Geoffrey Praxis, and experimented upon as retribution for his crimes, and there were several other rumors of similar nature. The ones that were whispered the most frequently, though, said that he turned into the devil himself with proper provocation. Gossip of that particular nature abounded, but few knew the truth about the complicated and scarred elf known to most only as Jak.

She, however, was one of those few who knew the truth behind him, or at least as much as she'd been able to learn.

He'd been born Alexander Jacob Mar, and he was her first cousin, the son of her aunt, Alicia Mar, and King Damas, both now dead. The latter in an ill fated assault upon the Metal Head Nest, and the former at the hands of her own brother when he'd overthrown the government shortly thereafter and set himself up as Baron.

She choked back a tear that tried to manifest itself, thinking of her father, a man who'd done all the wrong things for all the right reasons. Eventually though, he'd seen the error of his ways, and tried to fix things. Unfortunately, his redemption had been cut short by a Metal Head Cloaker sticking a blade in his gut.

It had been a blow meant for her.

She refocused her attention upon the dark elf in front of her, scarcely daring to believe that he'd technically only been born about seven years ago. He'd been hidden away in another time through the use of technology she wouldn't even pretend to understand, so that he might one day gain the power to do what was spelled out in prophecy: bring down the Metal Head Leader.

Eventually, through a rather long series of events, he and a few others had been catapulted back into the future, where a blind seer had dropped information to her father that resulted in the experiments that he had been rumored to have been put through.

Upon finding out that he was a Channeler, a descendent of an elven/Precursor Hybrid, he'd been injected with concentrated amounts of Dark Eco, the most dangerous element of Gaia's lifeblood, with the hopes of turning him into some kind of super weapon.

They had succeeded…to say the least.

He'd escaped and assisted the Underground resistance movement against her father, but a careless screw up on her part had gotten nearly the whole lot of them captured. She'd been there, looking down with Torn and Tess from a cell as one last injection had done something utterly irrevocable to him.

He looked up suddenly, his slitted, reptilian eyes undeniable proof of what had been done to him. It was only later that they'd been told by Onin, the silent mastermind of all of this, what had happened.

Jak was a very special kind of Channeler, one whose body was attuned to a particular elemental type of Eco, darkness in this case. While he had initially been as normal as any Channeler would have been, prolonged exposure to Dark Eco activated a strange genetic quirk in his DNA, and it was now the only variety that he could use. The tradeoff had been a loss in flexibility for an increase in sheer power. He was blessed with vampiric strength, speed, and reflexes, not to mention enhanced sensory perceptions and a healing factor that made it damn near impossible to take him down. He also had some rather nasty Channeling powers at his disposal that she had seen him use time and time again.

And that was to say nothing of what lurked underneath the surface.

He had a split personality, another entity that resided within him: Kage, the oni. However, while said alter ego might have been more than eight feet tall, possessed bat wings, horns, and other such features that virtually screamed 'spawn of the abyss,' a devil he was not, at least as far as personality was concerned. Far from that, the Dark Eco demon seemed to possess a strange honor code, and was far more noble than many an elf could proclaim to be. While his personal code was something she didn't fully understand, she knew that Kage was not the monster that the vicious rumors made him out to be.

A small glint of light being reflected off of metal drew her eye, and her attention was focused on the ring that he had on his finger. It was a simple golden band, the only decoration being a few Precursor runes inscribed upon its length.

There was only one other like it in the world that she knew of, and it was currently on the same finger of an aqua haired mechanic back in Haven.

A few weeks after their victory over Kor and the Metal Heads, Jak had proposed to Keira, and the two of them had been wed in a quite ceremony, with her, Torn, Jinx, Tess, and of course, Daxter and Samos being present. They watched in silence for the most part, though Daxter had blubbered and used Samos' oversized beard as a tissue, as an elven holy man had bound the souls of the two elves together for eternity. Fortunately for the Ottsel, the Green Eco Sage was so overcome by emotion himself that he did not think to swat him for doing such a thing.

Unfortunately, just as things were looking up, they had come crashing down yet again.

The Metal Heads, thought to be broken since their Overmind had been destroyed by Jak and Kage, returned with a vengeance. Worse, they had had help in the form of strange mechanized soldiers that had slammed into them from the east, while the Hora-quan had torn into their western flank.

The dark elf and oni had both assisted as best they could, driving the fiends back whenever they ran into them. But they couldn't be everywhere at once, and the situation had deteriorated rapidly. And the Haven City Council, which had been granted emergency powers in the wake of the crisis, had found themselves in need of a scapegoat, something that the dark elf conveniently provided.

Her eyes narrowed to a glare as she looked over to the man that was responsible for this outrage. Count Veger, chairman of the city council, and the power behind the throne, most unfortunately.

However, the Governess did take some satisfaction as she looked at the councilman's battered state. His fancy and expensive clothes were torn, and there were what almost looked like claw marks around his face. Not to mention the bruises on his neck and the fact that his left eye was currently swollen shut. There was also a rather large lump on his head at about the same point where his extremely receding hairline began.

A smirk came over her face as she remembered how the arrogant elf had gotten those battle marks…

* * *

It was the dead of night when they'd decided to carry out the sentence, and they'd taken the dark elf from his holding cell within the secondary command barracks in the Residential Sector. 

He was in chains, and surrounded by Torn, Jinx, and another Revenant, their visors glowing the eerie blue that they always did. She'd been there next to him as well, staring down at the ground, a look of disbelief upon her face that had been plastered there ever since the twelve man council had reached its decision. The Revenants no doubt held similar expressions upon their faces, and it was made all the worse by Veger's egotistical swagger as they marched towards the drop ship.

Outside, waiting for them, were Daxter, Tess, Samos, Pecker, and of course, Keira.

The aqua haired elf took one look at the downcast appearance of Ashelin, and the downright evil smile upon the chairman's face, and she knew what had happened. It put her disposition somewhere between wanting to cry and resisting the urge to rip the man's throat out with her bare hands.

Heedless of the consequences, she'd ran out, and gripped Jak in a fierce embrace, a gesture that he returned as best he could, considering how he was restrained. A moment later, they let their lips wander to each others, both silently vowing to each other that this would not be the last time they were in each others arms.

Ashelin felt her rage double as she watched them, hating her own inability to stop this madness from taking place.

"Oh, for the love of the Precursors!" she heard Count Veger hiss, rolling his eyes at the scene in front of him. "Still, I suppose we should be grateful for some things. I praise the gods daily that he hasn't somehow managed to get her pregnant yet, as the last thing that we need is to have a bunch of little demon children running around Haven, wreaking havoc where they will."

Both the Ascended Channeler and the mechanic stiffened, slowly opening their eyes and pulling away from each other. Jak looked back over his shoulder, his slitted azure eyes flashing purple for a brief second, and the Governess knew that it was taking every ounce of willpower that he had not to strike the councilman dead on the spot.

"I think they heard you." came Jinx's sardonic voice from behind, the pyromaniac not really giving a hoot that he hadn't asked for permission to speak his mind.

"And I should care because?" Count Veger asked, arrogance dripping from his voice.

The answer he got was the gray armored soldier pointing at something in front of the chairman. He turned around just in time to watch Keira lunge at him, and clamp her fingers around his throat. He went down with a shriek, and the aqua haired elf immediately began to tear into him, raking his face and tearing at his suit, all the while having a vice-like grip upon his wind pipe with her other hand.

As the councilman screamed for the Revenants to help him, Jinx opened up a private comm. line with his squad mates.

"Okay," the pyromaniac said, a large amount of amusement in his voice, "he screams like a girl. Cody, you owe me five creds."

"There is a time and a place for everything, Jinx." Torn growled as he watched Keira deliver a bone cracking punch to Veger's face. "Now is neither of those…and, much as I hate to give this order, pull her off of him."

"No freaking way, leader man!" the other Revenant said, emphasizing his dissent with a shake of his head. "Did you see the look in her eyes?" he asked, turning to face his squad leader. "I will sooner lead a one man assault upon the West Side in nothing more than my boxer shorts with a giant bulls-eye painted on my chest and attempt to single handedly drive the Metal Heads off while singing 'La Cucaracha,' okay? I would have a better chance of coming back alive!"

"Cody?" Torn asked.

"Sorry, fearless leader," the heavy weapons expert replied in his accented voice, "but I'm siding with the pyro on this one. Why don't you try and get her off?"

Silence met his suggestion, and both Cody and Jinx exchanged knowing glances with each other.

Finally, after Veger had taken about a good minute's worth of thrashing, Samos groaned and slapped his hand to his head.

"I am never going to forgive myself for this." the Green Eco Sage muttered quietly, before walking over to his adoptive daughter. "Keira," he said, leaning down next to her as she punched the councilman in the face again, "you are not helping Jak by doing this."

His adoptive daughter looked over to him, and with a disgusted sigh, let go of Veger's throat, which allowed for his head to hit the dura-crete walkway one last time. She then rose, and went to walk over to where Daxter and the rest were. However, she wanted to get one last blow in, and chose that moment to stomp on a certain part of the Councilman's anatomy, hard. This resulted in a high pitched shriek coming from the elf, and every other male except for Jak, as his restraints made it impossible to do so, covering their own vulnerable areas and grimacing.

She then embraced Jak a final time, until Veger had managed to get back up to his feet. For a moment, he looked ready to kill, but Jak caught his eyes again, and this time the slitted irises flashed red for a brief instant.

Even the Chairman of the Haven City Council was wise enough to know what that meant, and he backed off, opting to order the two members of the Freedom Guard to come and take Jak away. Reluctantly, the dark elf allowed himself to be carried away from his wife and soul-mate, knowing that these two were simply doing their jobs.

Veger had gotten onboard right after Jak and the guards, and Ashelin went to join them, as she had something to give the Ascended Channeler, something that might very well wind up making the difference between life and death. However, Keira and Samos motioned for her to stop for a moment and come over to them. She did so, and was surprised when they pulled two things out of a pack that they had brought with them. The first was Jak's armor, something that Keira had made for him some months ago, a vest and trench coat made from blaster absorbent electro-mesh and ferrosteel plates.

The second, was Kitetsu, the dark katana that had been used by his ancestor, Mar, founder of the city. Ashelin felt memories flash, recalling all the times that she'd seen Jak and occasionally Kage use that Precursor crafted weapon to devastating effect as the blade had cut down Metal Heads and combat droids alike, shredding titanium-A battle armor like it was paper.

She'd taken them with a nod to her friend, and hopped on board.

* * *

That had been more than six hours ago, and as she replayed the memory, she vowed that Verger's thrashing would be something that she would never allow herself to forget, ever. 

Hell hath no fury like a woman whose husband was being exiled on a trumped up charge to satisfy the need for a scapegoat.

Abruptly, she yanked herself out of her musings, as she realized that they were slowing down, reaching their destination, which was officially the middle of nowhere. She sat up and looked over to Jak once again, and saw the silent agony that was in his face. She could hardly blame him. He'd risked life and limb for the city of his birth, for a people that he barely knew, yet still protected as best he could. Hell, he and his inner demon had damn near gotten themselves killed in their battle with Kor, and only near divine intervention had saved the dark elf's life.

She also remembered the overwhelming feelings she'd gotten when she'd seen his rescuer, a living, breathing Precursor. Tarath had been his name, though most elves would have probably known him better by his military rank of Praetor. He'd been a myth supposedly; a companion to Mar and the one who'd awakened the future king's gifts, not to mention that he'd later helped with Haven City's construction.

It had been only three months ago when it had happened, yet it seemed such a long time since then. There had been mourning for the dead, and celebration for the living, and then the drek had hit the fan again.

The drop ship stopped altogether, and the repulsor lifts shifted to where it was in a hover mode. She stood, and moved to help him up. However, despite the heavy chains that he was in, the Ascended Channeler managed to do it on his own, and shuffled over towards the ramp, which was being lowered.

Despite the fact that it was only a little past dawn the searing heat of the Wasteland hit them like a shockwave, rolling over them and making the inside of the drop ship seem like an oven. Jak also let out a hiss, and she knew why: his vision was more sensitive than theirs, and the bright flash of the sun, after so many hours in near darkness, must have been nearly blinding to him.

As he'd been helped off the ramp by the two guards, who once again wore looks of bitter resignation at their current tasks, Veger stepped forward, and with all the dignity and arrogance he could muster from his battered state, pulled out a fancy piece of parchment, clearing his throat before beginning to read it.

"By order of the Grand Council of Haven City," he said in a voice that was still slightly 'off key,' puffing out his chest and glaring at the dark elf, who returned the favor with interest, "for heinous acts and crimes against the people, you are hereby banished to the Wasteland for life."

He then rolled up the scroll and stepped back, that ever cursed swagger to his movement.

"This is a death sentence, Veger," Ashelin growled, stepping forward and sending out a verbal jab by not referring to him by his rank, "there has to be another way."

"Your protests were overruled, Governess," he sneered, "this freak is dangerous."

It was true unfortunately. She might have been the Governess of Haven City, but she was little more than a figurehead, and in reality held very little power. The Grand Council was a little wary of putting too much authority into any one particular person after what her father had done, and she could hardly blame them.

However, that was still no excuse for this perversion of justice. And her tactical side was screaming in rage as well. Not only was her cousin being thrown out to die for no good reason, but the fact that he was their best soldier, so much so as to virtually be an army unto himself, compounded the problems of holding the city together.

"This is an outrage!" came a voice from behind them, and all turned, shocked to see Pecker standing on the rear of the loading ramp, his wings crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed. "I am outraged beyond words…though I do have something to say. Not everyone agrees with this," the monkeet paused for a moment, squawking in mid sentence, "ridiculous decree!"

"Yeah we want a recount!" this time, it was Daxter who spoke.

Ashelin was thunderstruck, to say the least, as she realized that the two of them must have snuck onboard the drop ship. While their small sizes would have enabled them to do that quite well, what puzzled her was how they had managed to stop from giving themselves away, as neither of them were exactly known for being the silent type, especially when in each other's company.

"Oh," Veger stated, morbid amusement present on his battered face, "so you wish to join him then?"

That took the bluster right out of Pecker, but Daxter retained his own cross expression.

"Actually," the familiar said, scratching the back on his head and laughing nervously, "we are not that outraged. Farewell, Jak," he said, waving and retreating further back into the transport ship, earning him a look from the furry rodent, "stay out of the sun! And remember to drink lots of water…if you can manage to find it."

"Jak." Daxter said, after a moment of quietness had passed.

The daughter of Praxis was stunned once again by the Ottsel. He wasn't the comical joker that he always seemed to be before, the one that always flirted with Tess, and found some way to piss Torn off. Now, he was serious, anxious even. It was a side of him she'd never seen before.

"Go back to the city, Dax," the dark elf said, turning his head and staring out over the vast Wasteland that would, at least as far as Veger was concerned, be his grave, "Tess will be worried about you."

Wishing that she could somehow summon up the power to stop this madness, Ashelin walked forward, the keys to the Ascended Channeler's restraints in her hands. However, before she could get close to Jak, he sent another glare at the Grand Council Chairman, and a second later, Dark Eco lightning coursed its way over the chains. With a snarl, he leapt into the air, balled himself up slightly, and then spread his arms and legs, shattering the restraints.

His ferrosteel plated boots hit the sand, and he continued to keep his unnerving glare upon Veger. He was sending the Count a silent message, one that caused the balding elf to shudder despite all his supposed control.

You're only exiling me because I'm letting you, the look said.

Ashelin leapt back up, and grabbed his armor, before heading back out into the broiling heat of the desert. She handed the equipment to him, and he slipped the vest on before she realized that she'd left Kitetsu back in the transport. However, Jak simply extended his hand, and the dark katana lifted into the air, scabbard and all, before flying over to him, heeding the call of its master.

He took the blade, and slipped the strap on the scabbard over his shoulder to where the sword was pointing handle side down towards his right side. Normally, the blade would have fallen out, but a locking mechanism set into the scabbard prevented such a thing from happening, and it also made the weapon very easy to conceal with the right clothing.

Which the trench coat conveniently provided for him, and as he slipped the last bit of armor over himself the Governess noted for the first time that it had been modified slightly since the last time she'd seen him with it. It was more voluminous now, covering more of him, and had a hood as well, no doubt to help keep the desert heat at bay a little better. That was one reason that electro-mesh was so highly sought after by mercenaries, it was not only good protection, being lightweight and highly flexible, but it protected against extreme temperatures rather effectively too, despite the fact that it was black.

She then dug into her pocket, and drew out an odd, blinking device, before pressing it into Jak's hand.

"Sig wanted me to give this to you," she hissed quietly, so that Count Veger wouldn't hear what was going on between the two of them, "whatever you do, don't lose it. Someone will come for you."

"You just make sure Keira doesn't get herself hurt." the dark elf said with a whisper. "You know how she is in a scrap."

"Don't worry about her, she'll take care of herself," Ashelin muttered, "you just stay alive, you hear me?"

"I've lived through things tougher than this." Was the reply she got, and she knew to what he was referring.

With a backwards glance at him, she clambered back up on the transport craft. She looked upon him, the young elf that had saved them all.

And this was to be his reward.

* * *

He shielded his eyes as the drop ship blasted off, kicking up a cloud of sand and dust. Much to his surprise, he heard coughing and hacking coming from in front of him. That surprise only grew when the dust cleared, revealing Daxter and Pecker. 

"Dax?" he exclaimed in disbelief, his eyes widening slightly.

'**_He follows us willingly into the jaws of Death…' _**Kage mused in a weary voice, speaking for the first time in hours. **_'He's far braver than most give him credit for.'_**

"Don't thank me." the Ottsel grumbled, oblivious to the oni's compliment as he dusted himself off. "I only came along 'cause you and I both know you wouldn't last a second out here on your own!" he then crossed his arms and looked around at the Wasteland. "Okay, big guy, you got us into this mess, now you gotta get us out."

"Ahh," Pecker remarked, surprisingly cheerful despite the situation, "what a team we'll make."

"Let's just get moving." the dark elf said, pulling up the cowl of his armor, shielding his face from the blistering sun that was starting rise higher in the sky. "But which way."

"That way!" both Daxter and Pecker exclaimed, pointing in the exact opposite directions.

"Oh, and I suppose you know where you're going, eh, rat boy?" the monkeet said, glaring at the Ottsel.

"Better than you do, bent beak!" the diminutive rodent shot back.

"Arrgh." the elven member of the group growled. "Let's just move."

With that, they began heading west, keeping the sun to their backs. As they traveled, Jak stared down at his right hand, watching the sunlight reflect off the ring on his finer.

'_I will see you again.' _he vowed to where only one other being could hear him.

* * *

"Sig's on the move again, my lord." the elf replied with a thick aussie accent. "But he's slower this time, definitely humping about on foot now." 

"Then let's get moving, this might be the break I've been waiting for."

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, first chapter is done, and I hope it wasn't too much of an eyesore... 

If its not too much, I would like to know what you readers thought of the chapter, be it in advice, critisism, or even a flame. For that matter, Ideas are also welcomed with open arms.

That said, I hope you enjoy the rest of the day, and I'll see you next week with any luck.


	2. Rescued

Greetings one and all, and I do hope you are enjoying today. I know I am, as a friend of mine alerted me to the fact that Capcom is coming out with special edition of DMC3 that will let you play through as Vergil!

At any rate, its Friday, which means its time for another update in this mediocre work, during which Jak and Daxter meet Kleiver, Damas, and all that jazz.

Anyway, to those of you who were so kind and dropped me a review.

**Crazed Demon- **Cody made a very, very brief appearance in chapter thirty of Risen Demon, and as for his being a Revenant, Torn and Jinx are attempting to rebuild the ranks, so you can expect to see Keira and Tess suit up with em in a few chapters as well. Hope you like the chapter just as much as the last one.

**MariaShadow- **Expect that bit of Veger bashing to be the first of many. Our favorite punching bag will be the target of the following (hopefully): Samos, Torn, Ashelin, Damas, and Tarath (You can probably figure out when he goes to wailing on him) As for Jinx's antics, well, he will still be the light hearted jokester of the Revenants, so expect several more such rants.

**GoodMorningBeautiful2005- **Glad that you liked the chapter, and I hope that you find this one to be just as enjoyable.

**animedragongirl- **Yes, I did manage to, no thanks to the seven major tests that have been hurled at me in the last two weeks. (I swear, my teachers are sadists…) Thanks for checking this one over, and I'll hopefully get the next chapter to you on Sunday.

**Farr2rich- **Sorry to disappoint you, I really wanted to make a trial scene…but I just couldn't manage it (bows head in shame) Instead, all you get is Jak's thoughts regarding a paragraphed sized abridgment of what went down. (really sorry) I hope that the rest of the chapter can sort of make up for it, and I can't wait to read the next chapter of your own story soon.

**YamiTenshi14-** Glad to hear that you liked my other story, it was actually the first idea that I had for fanfiction, though I must admit the whole first person deal was really something of an experiment. Not really certain on vehicle upgrades, though I am throwing a new one in and the Slam Dozer has been extensively modified in my version. Let me know what you think of them if its not too much trouble, please?

**Saber/Karra Knight**- Glad that you liked Risen Demon, and I hope to make this one even better, so wish me luck, I'll definitely need it.

**Philoworm- **Yeah, never tick a woman off, particularly when she has an intimate knowledge of guns, assault vehicles, and other things that cause things to go boom. Hope you like this chapter just as much.

**Air of Mystery**- I'll try to get some Torn/Ashelin stuff in here when I can, any suggestions? As far as your other question was concerned…well…if Kage were ever to find himself in such a situation, he would likely turn an interesting shade of red before finding himself relieved of his consciousness. Don't worry about Veger, he will get hurt…a lot.

**Yuuzora- **Veger torture, the one thing that authors in this section never get tired of…at least…I don't think they do. (shrugs) At any rate, hope that you enjoy the upcoming chapters as much as the first one.

**Evil Manic- **Glad that you liked the whole wedding deal (directs orbital cannon towards N.D. Headquarters), and the side of Veger torture, if you have any ideas on how to have him turned into a bloody pulp, please let me know.

**Jak-X- **Yeah, our little tech head has quite the temper, hasn't she? Just wait till she starts getting her powers around chapter ten-eleven. And don't worry, once Jak hauls his but out of sandville, they'll be fighting side by side in every chapter. Hope you like the chapter.

**dude**- Nice to know that my first reviewer is still hanging around watching how I'm doing, and I thank you for that. (bows in humility) May you find the up and coming chapters to be just as enjoyable.

**SRHumphrey727- **Glad that you liked the chapter, and I did get yoru e-mail, and as of right now, I am wracking the living daylights out of my brains trying to figure out how to get the idea worked in… As for Jak-X, let us hope that N.D. clears up certain relationships that they decided to screw up with the third game…(faint muttering is heard, followed by a giant fireball landing on N.D. headquarters)

**Meowen- **Yep, I intend to take this thing for about a thirty five chapter run, more if I can manage it (prays reverently not to run out of steam prematurely) Hope you like it, and please let me know of any ideas you get.

**Jetrex12- **Glad you liked Veger getting messed up. As for Jak 3, there were several plot holes that bugged me, and seeing as how I have mentioned it before, I shall not rant again. I was a little disappointed with the plot of the third game though, as the second one had a story of a quality one normally only finds with RPGs (quite an accomplishment for a platformer). I hope I continue to please, and let me know of any ideas you might have.

**jaklover123- **Not a whole lot of Jak 3 stories that have caught my attention, and none of them that I know of that are finished, so maybe I'll be the first. Glad to know that I'm keeping everyone in character, and if I start to slip up, please let me know. (though Daxter will have a major change towards the end, as he will show the world just how much courage he's got in him)

**just another writer-** Been bashing out my head trying to think of a way to get Keira out into the desert, and I'm coming up empty, as Jak will be doing everything there at once and then coming back to Haven to bail everyone out. (though he and Keira will make a brief return to Spargas to help fend off the Fallen Precursor attack). If you can think of a way, I'll try to work it into the story, so please let me know. (bows)

**The Ninja Who Wanted To Be A Samurai- **Amen to that! What was N.D. thinking with the end of the third game? That scene literally came out of nowhere! Ahh well, maybe they got enough flame mail afterwards to realize their error…let's hope so at any rate.

**gamehead64-** Happy to hear that you liked the chapter enough to spare my life, as this body is flash cloned, and while I have the off world assets to get another…it is a little pricey, so please to not vaporize me… (grovels)

**MewmiC- **I hope that I have not disappointed here, as there are still more changes appearing here. Hope you like them.

**DarkStarPhoenix- **Glad to hear from you again, and I thank you for the encouragement. Sorry about the cliffhanger on Risen Demon, as I really didn't realize that's what it was. And as for Veger torture…any ideas?

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Glad to hear that you have e-mail again, but I am afraid that the review didn't contain it, as deletes it automatically for some reason, you'll have to put space in-between the parts of it to fool the server and let me see it. Also, check out Farr2rich's story while you're at it, its pretty good, and the guy has some great ideas for it being his first time writing. Glad that you liked the chapter, and I hope to see your own works updated soon!

**Exardas- **Don't worry about Jak's condition, I'd been planning on having him awake and alert when Damas and company show up, as it does reflect his power more. (I didn't realize it at first, but with the skills he has, his eyes, and his armor, he looks like a Sith Lord lol) Thanks for clearing up the 40K stuff, and I look forward to reading you stories as well. Best of luck to ya.

**Saoirse-** Here's the update for you, and I hope you like it.

**Jakxkeira4ever- **Yeah, and I hope to make it better than its predecessor. Glad that you liked Risen Demon, and let me know what you think of this one as well.

To those of you who read but did not review, I hope that you found the previous chapter to be worth your time, and that I have not somehow scarred you.

Lawyers: me no own, so you no sue…not like you'd get anything anyway.

That said, here is chapter two.

* * *

&

* * *

Rescued

The sun was approaching high noon, now, and it beat down upon the trio without mercy. Pecker was struggling to stay in the air, his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a croca-dogs as he flapped his wings. Daxter was really having a hard time, his fur keeping him so hot that his body had actually stopped sweating, which was definitely not a good sign. Jak was neutral as always, sweating slightly, but not as bad as he might have been had Keira not modified his armor for him.

"This is all your stupid fault!" the dark elf heard Pecker shout.

"What?" Daxter returned, glaring at the monkeet. "Only a bird brain could have thought this one up." He then, in his best imitative voice, proceeded to mock the familiar. "Let's go with him! We'll help together! More like we'll die together! " the Ottsel then shook his head, and added in a much softer tone. "I can't believe the city hates us, we saved those lowlifes."

"Not everyone hates us, Dax." Jak said as he looked back at the two smaller members of the group, a slight wind kicking up and tugging at the edges of his hood.

'**_One things puzzles me,' _**came the ever familiar voice of Kage from within his mind, speaking for the first time since they'd trecked away from where they had been dropped off, **_'I understand why you allowed them to exile us, as infighting between those who support us and those who hate you because of what I am is the last thing that Haven needs right now. What I do not understand is why they detest me, I have never harmed one of them.'_**

Jak let out a crooked half smile as the looked upon the demon's confused appearance, as in his mind's eye, the oni was currently scratching its horned head. Kage was powerful, and occasionally too honorable for his own good, but there was still certain, almost child like degree of naiveté that would occasionally crop up.

'_They do not understand you, Kage,' _Jak replied, _'and we elves have this annoying tendency to fear and hate what we don't understand. And what we fear and hate, we try to destroy.'_

'**_But,' _**the Dark Eco demon responded, not fully understanding, **_'that is the reasoning of an animal. I should know, you recall my thinking capabilities were once limited to such urges.'_**

'_Sometimes,' _the Ascended Channeler remarked, suddenly and strangely philosophical, _'we elves can be more like animals than we are willing to admit.'_

As those words crossed his mind, he found himself drifting back, remembering the things that had sealed their fate…

* * *

"Report." Came Samos' harsh voice as an explosion lit up the harbor sector of the city, causing his daughter standing next to him to frown.

"It's bad, really bad!" Torn exclaimed, and the sound of gunfire crackled over the portable comm. unit a moment later. "The city's turning into a battlefield, and everything's going to hell really fast down here. Those clankers blew a damn hole in the Shield Wall, and they're pouring into the Industrial District from outside. On top of that, Jinx is reporting that the Metal Heads have expanded their hold on the West Side area of town, we're getting our rears kicked on all fronts."

"Hang on," a new voice growled, and both elves whirled to see Jak and Daxter walking out onto the palace balcony, though the circles under the dark elves clearly testified to his fatigue, "we'll be there in a minute."

"Negative on that, Jak," Ashelin said, joining the conversation, "you and Kage have been engaged for the past seventy two hours, you need to rest."

"While I'm resting, our people are dying!" he snarled, clinching his fist in a move of defiance that his cousin couldn't see.

"Jak, rest up, that is an order." The Governess shot back in a voice full of authority. "Things are bad enough as it is, with that emergency Council meeting tonight."

"I still can't believe that they think that just because he worked for Krew for a little while that he's responsible for all of this." Keira muttered, shaking her head as she walked over to her husband.

"What's in the past is done." Samos replied with a weary sigh and shake of his head. "Right now, they seemed to be marshalling their forces for a strike on the palace." He shook his head again abruptly, a frown coming over his face. "I don't understand it…it's almost as if they're looking for something. But what could it be?"

Any further thoughts were cut off amongst the group as a large flight of missiles suddenly became airborne, visible above the towering buildings of the Residential Sector. They watched, in horror, as they slammed into the Palace right where two of the support cables attached, blowing them clean away. The structure shook, and a very obvious list came over it. They slipped and slid over the balcony as it continued to lean, the last cable groaning in protest, now supporting a load it had never been designed to, and causing Keira and Jak to both voice their opinions about what moron designed the building that way, the term moron being used in place of a much better phrase.

About three seconds after they finished, as if mocking them, there was suddenly a loud snap, and the final support gave way, causing the doomed Palace began its trip to the ground, taking the group with it. Unable to stop themselves, they went sailing over the edge of the balcony, in free fall more than eight hundred feet off of the ground.

However, where this would have meant an inevitable death in the case of most people, it would not be in this case. Jak's alien eyes flashed red, and a sphere of darkness enveloped him, a pain filled roar coming from within as Kage manifested himself. His wings folded back, the demon streaked towards the others in a step dive.

He reached Keira first, and carefully reached out and grabbed her, taking care not to harm the soul mate of his host. Daxter came next, plucked from gravity's hold in mid scream. This just left Samos to be rescued, and the oni streaked towards the ground like a falcon as he attempted to catch up with the free falling Sage. About two or three seconds later, he finally did so, reaching out with his clawed foot to snag the Green Eco Sage around his leg.

Now, he had to slow them all down. Unfolding his wings, he proceeded to level off, back flapping at the same time in an attempt to put on the air brakes. He succeeded in slowing their forward momentum and in getting them on a flight path significantly more parallel to the ground, but only just, and as they landed, the Dark Eco demon collapsed to his knees, panting.

Keira had embraced the devil, earning a smile from him, before he collapsed to the ground, exhaustion taking its toll.

* * *

Jak had awoken some time later to find himself in a prison cell, and things had gone downhill from there.

The 'trial' that he had been put through had been little more than a mockery of justice, with the Councilmen spewing their hatred towards him, Veger leading the charge as they brought condemnation after condemnation upon his head. All the while, Keira, Daxter, and everyone else had looked on, helpless to intervene. However, he did take some comfort that not everyone thought him some hell spawned beast. There had been several points in the trial where the two guards always positioned around him had given him sympathetic glances, and from what Torn and General Toshiro had told him, the military forces were backing him one hundred percent.

The city also seemed to be divided over the subject. The citizens were split down the middle in their opinions of him, and he did not fancy whoever drew the short straw to break the news to those who supported him, as the trial had been 'behind closed doors,' which was another reason he'd been hauled off in the dead of night.

There was a sudden groan from behind him, shaking him out of his musings. Looking back, the dark elf noticed that Daxter had collapsed into the sand, and was struggling to rise, his tiny arms shaking and threatening to give way at any moment. As fast as he could, Jak dashed back over to him, picking the Ottsel up and gently cradling him in his arms.

"Damn it, Dax," he muttered, trying to keep his friend sheltered and awake at the same time, "we've been too much to die like this, so don't you dare give up on me now!"

The Ottsel was apparently still conscious, as he gave a faint smile, though his eyes remained closed.

'**_Hellfire!' _**Kage swore. **_'He's not going to last much longer!'_**

"Argh, this bird…is over cooked." Pecker gasped, faltering in his flight. "Would all passengers kindly stick their heads between their legs and kiss their butts goodbye…thank you."

With that, the now partially delusional monkeet crash landed into the sand. Jak looked about in desperation, deciding to take his chances with those strange people who'd been tailing them for about the past hour.

He wasn't certain how they'd come across him, but he only prayed they were somewhat friendly, as they had been keeping a very discreet distance. Still, even if they proved to be hostile, and were waiting for the desert to soften him up, they would find that this lone traveler had many a deadly trick up his sleeve.

And so, he reached into the depths of his trench coat/robe, and drew Kitetsu. He then turned about, facing the direction he'd last seen them coming from, and angled the weapon with a single hand, his other still holding his small friend close. The sunlight reflected off of the dark katana, and he wiggled it several times, flashing it like an S.O.S. light.

* * *

"Well, Seth?" the leader asked, his face hidden behind a mask and head wrappings made of some sort of brown, cloth like material.

"Well," the smaller, dark skinned Wastelander replied, staring down through some macro-binoculars, "it ain't Sig, whoever it is."

"How can you tell?" the largest, at least as far as girth was concerned, inquired.

"Because, Kleiver," Seth replied from his prone position, "this guy isn't built like the Slam Dozer. And even if he were, I don't think that Sig would be dumb enough to wear black in the desert in the middle of the summer."

Abruptly, Seth caught the glare of sunlight reflecting off of something, and let out a whistle of appreciation.

"Well, if he is a townie, he's good." the elf replied, grudging admiration in his voice. "He's on to us, and I think he'd like a little assist."

He looked up over his shoulder, staring at his leader. Kleiver was as well, his fingers unconsciously stroking the barrel of his assault rifle. For a couple of moments, the masked figure simply rested his face upon his chin as he leaned against the massive vehicle that had gotten him and Kleiver out this far.

"It could be a trap, but somehow I don't imagine our Marauder 'pals' capable of pulling something like this, they're not normally this patient." He said after some time. "Let's check it out." He then gestured for the two of them to mount up, before adding in a grim tone. "But, Kleiver, if it does turn out to be a trap, be ready to hose him with the turret, got me?"

"Yes, your majesty." the large Wastelander replied, clambering up the side of the multi ton desert vehicle, and plopping down into the dual gattling turret.

And that was only one of several weapons outfitting the massive Slam Dozer. The vehicle was the epitome of a mobile heavy desert warfare platform. In addition to that rotating gun up on top, were several side mounted weapons that were controlled from the driver's seat, two of which appeared to be some kind of multi-shot rocket launchers. The Slam Dozer was also heavily armored, with metal plates covering virtually every square inch of it, and several other areas, most around the rear, that had been expanded outward into bubble like structures, from which others could sit in and fire back at an enemy from with infantry weapons. There was also one of these things on either side as well, helping to cover the vehicles 'dead zones' that the turret on the top couldn't.

Seth was mounting up on his own vehicle as their leader shifted into gear. His was a small craft, almost resembling a dirt bike, though it had larger shock absorbers, and the tires were wider and very heavily treaded to allow it to maneuver upon the ever shifting sands of the Wasteland. It also possessed a pair of guns set just above the front wheel along side the chassis, which were operated by a thumb stud set into the handle bars. It was light and speedy, but a single good shot would pretty much total the bike, thus the reason why it was primarily a scouting vehicle.

Two seconds later, they were off, tearing over the sand dunes.

* * *

He saw them a few minutes later, definitely heading towards him. He only prayed that they had water on them, or else things would be looking grim for Daxter and Pecker.

They drove up alongside of them, one on a strange bike, while the other two were in a vehicle so large and heavily armored that it looked like it could have given a scorpion assault tank a run for its money. Two of them, the one on the bike and the cloaked man driving the large armored vehicle got off, while the fat one stayed in his little gun turret, not bothering to hide the fact that he was keeping both of those large multi barreled weapons trained on him.

The dark elf looked at the man who was all covered up, as there was something about the way that he carried himself that seemed to imply that he was the leader of this group. The strange desert dweller returned his stare, and the two eyed each other warily for a few moments. Finally, the masked one reached into the depths of his cloak, and withdrew a canteen, before tossing it over to him.

"You look a little parched, townie." he said in a deep voice.

Jak didn't respond, but caught the canteen with his right hand, before carefully unscrewing the top, and after some encouragement, was able to get Daxter to open his mouth. He then gently poured some of the contents into the Ottsel's mouth, letting out a sigh of relief as his friend swallowed deeply and eagerly, and quietly asked for more, something the dark elf did not hesitate to provide.

About a minute of such treatment later, Daxter finally seemed to get his fill of H2O, and Jak took a swig himself. The water was somewhat warm, not really surprising considering where they were, but it was arguably the best drink that he had ever had in his life.

"Water, water, everywhere and not a drop to drink…" Pecker said, his voice almost one of somebody who had just gone off the deep end.

"Do we have to give any to him?" Daxter inquired weakly, some of his old humor coming back now that the threat of death by dehydration had been temporarily postponed.

"I don't think Onin would like it very much if we let her familiar die." Jak said with a chuckle, walking over to where the monkeet lay upon the ground.

What he didn't see was the slight widening of the leader's eyes upon the mention of the blind seer's name.

Once he'd given Pecker a few swigs of the water, the familiar promptly picked himself up off of the burning sand, though he did not seem able to fly just yet. The Ascended Channeler then turned and tossed the canteen back over to the cloaked elf, who caught it easily.

"Thanks." he said, nodding his head slightly towards the man.

"Your welcome, townie." the desert dweller said, before crossing his arms over his chest and giving him a piercing stare. "Now, seeing as how we've been kind enough to save your tail, would you care to explain why it is that you are carrying a tracking beacon that does not belong to you?"

"Pardon?" Jak stated, before realizing what it was that the man must have been referring to. He stuck his hand down into one of his pockets, the one that Ashelin had placed that strange artifact into, pulling it out. "This thing?"

"That 'thing' happens to be the property of a good friend of mine, and I am curious as to how you managed to acquire it." the man said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Sig arranged for me to get it just before we got dumped in this gods' forsaken place." Jak said, a foul tasting bile rising in his throat as he remembered all that Veger had put him through.

"So, you know the bloke then?" the fat elf on the turret called down, causing Jak to stare up at him.

"We've bailed each other out a few times." He said, nodding his head slightly.

"Well, then, I suppose you got a name?" the leader said, raising an eyebrow.

"Jak." The dark elf said.

The leader kept his expression neutral, but he knew the name, and knew if this elf was who he claimed to be, that he had something on him that belonged to him. Still, he wanted to be sure.

"You mind removing the hood there, kid." He asked, and Jak knew it was not a request; nonetheless, he was reluctant to do so.

"I'd rather not." He said bluntly, a frown forming across the part of his face that was visible.

"Then I am afraid that I must insist." the leader said with a glare. "I have trouble bringing myself to trust a man whose eyes I can't see."

"Well," the Ascended Channeler muttered with a inward sigh, "I like to keep my eyes covered, as they have this really annoying tendency…" he trailed off as he bowed his head and threw the cowl back, slowly looking up into their faces, "to freak people out."

The lanky Wastelander and the larger one keeping a bead on the Ascended Channeler recoiled slightly as they stared at the young elf's slitted and burning azure eyes. The cloaked one in the center, though, merely raised his eyebrow again, and gave him a strange look.

"And just how did you come by eyes like that?" he inquired in genuine curiosity.

"They mark me as what I am." was the reply that he got.

"And that would be?" the leader ventured.

"One of the last things on this planet that you want to piss off." Jak growled.

"Oh really?" The leader inquired, chuckling in his deep voice. "Well, soon enough we'll find out whether or not that is true."

"Does this mean that you're going to pull us out of this place before I get turned into Kentucky Fried Chicken?" Pecker inquired, apparently having recovered sufficiently to resume conversation.

"Yeah, but there will be a price involved." the leader said, and Jak could tell there was a small smirk upon his face.

"Which would be?" Jak growled, not relishing the idea of being used again, which is what he fathomed would be the outcome.

"That you fork over the weapon that you have hidden on you." the desert dweller said, extending his hand. Jak gave him a confused look and his best poker face, but it did not deter him in the slightest. "Don't be difficult, pup, I know you're packing a blade, Sig was certain to tell me that much about you."

Realizing that stalling would get him nowhere, the dark elf reluctantly reached into his coat and pulled out the Precursor forged weapon. The three men tried to keep their expressions neutral, but there was a slight bulging of the eyes amongst them, and it did not go unnoticed, nor had Jak missed the remark about Sig reporting to this guy. The leader stepped forward a few seconds later, and held out his hand. With a scowl, the dark elf forked over the blade, very much reluctant to part with the last link of his heritage, the only thing he had left to remind him of who he was.

The man took it, his gaze settling upon the Dark Eco Crystal set into the end of the hilt, glowing in the desert heat and lighting up the runes set into the blade.

"Interesting…the pictures never showed it with that." He remarked.

"History chooses to omit more things than you'd realize." Jak muttered quietly, echoing Onin's words when a similar question had been asked many months ago.

"I'm just curious how you came by this weapon." The leader remarked. "This is the Blade of Mar, and last I checked, every member of that line was dead, down to the little boy that that fool Damas had."

Jak remained silent as he glared at this man who spoke about his father, a man he could only remember from the faintest of childhood memories, in such a slandering way, rage causing his eyes to flash purple for a moment. The leader noticed the death glare, and the slight change in eye color, and stared at him for a moment, before demanding the scabbard of the dark katana that he had on him as well. Jak forked it over, a scowl still present on his face.

"Consider it part of the payment for us saving you." the cloaked elf reminded him, before turning around and walking back towards the large vehicle, revealing a strange sword type weapon strapped to his back that Jak had never before beheld.

'**_Arrogant bastard!' _**Kage fumed, clearly infuriated by both the slander of the dead king, a clear violation of his ethics, and the less than respectful way in which he'd dealt with his host. **_'Just who does he think he is?' _**

'_Let's find out.' _Jak muttered to his inner demon, as he followed the trio back to the vehicles.

"Do _you_ have a name?" he growled as caught up to the leader and he let his alien eyes bore into the other elf.

The cloaked elf turned and looked back at him, matching his stare for a few moments before he uttered a single word, which only added to the mystery.

"Valthos."

"What the heck kind of a name is that?" Daxter inquired, finding his voice again.

"It isn't one at all." Jak answered his friend, earning him another look from the strange elf. "It's a title with two meanings." he explained, looking at the man again. "Exile, or Shattered One."

"Both are apt descriptions of me, boy, rest assured of that." Valthos growled, a small note of sorrow making its way into his voice.

The man went silent then, climbing up into the driver seat of the Slam Dozer, and motioning for the dark elf and his companions to take the passenger seat to his right. They did so, and for a moment, Jak and Kage wondered what they had just gotten themselves into.

* * *

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* * *

Okay, once again, let me say something before anyone asks: VALTHOS IS DAMAS! Just so you know. I decided upon the title and the whole face being covered deal because if you will recall, Jak knows about his past, and thus, meeting a guy with the same name/appearance as his father would strike up a rather awkward moment.

Also, do not fear about Jak being separated from his blade, he will get it back in the very next chapter, where he will proceed to unleash it upon the Marauders in the arena.

That said, if you have any ideas, advice, comments, constructive criticism, or even a flame, please let me know. And don't forget to have a great day!

Till next time, see ya.


	3. Gladiator

(Emerges from the shadows, face hidden behind cowl)

Once again, it is great to see you all, and I hope your having a great day. As for me, right now I'm praying that Hurricane Wilma keeps her distance from the Florida panhandle…my but this has been a busy hurricane season. I hope and pray that none of you have anyone that you know or love who are currently in the projected path of the storm.

Aside from that, School's the usual and I'm getting irritated to no end by my writer's block on my other story…(disgusted sigh) Ahhh well, life goes on.

Anyway, to those of you who reviewed.

**Saiorse- **I'm glad that you liked the level of detail that I put into my works, and I thank you for the compliment. If I start to slip, please let me know, and yes, I'll keep my updates regular, as I have no desire to wind up like a murder victim in Clue.

**Snowecat- **Happy to hear that you liked it, and Damas' reaction will be somewhere between jaw dropping and eye popping.

**MariaShadow- **Glad that you liked it. As for who gets to use Veger as a punching bag next…well…I think it'll probably be Samos, but it will be several chapters before we flip back over to Keira and the others.

**jesse**- I'm touched by your faith in me, and I hope that I can continue to please. If you have anything you'd like to see happen, let me know and I'll try to work it in.

**Farr2rich- **Glad you liked the chapter, and get ready for some bloody combat, as the title no doubt indicates (insane cackling is heard). As for the Veger torture, still trying to think more up, but I can tell you that there will be one part in which Torn shoves a rifle barrel down his throat, and when he draws his blaster on Xadec (the ottsel leader) Tarath goes ballistic on him. I also plan to have Damas beat the snot out of him just once…maybe use him as stirring stick for a drink during the victory celebration?

**Air of Mystery- ** Hmmm, Pecker butt kicking…I might be able to work in him and Dax trying to aim a peacemaker at one point, so thanks for the idea. As for Jak's clothing, it will remain the same (as will his hair) until he acquires Mar's Armor, which I have made plans to modify that will hopefully result in it being better than it was in the game, as well as not looking like a relic left over from the Greco-Roman era.

**Jetrex12- **Thanks for the Veger torture ideas, I'll try to fit that in there somewhere, as I can definitely see Samos going ballistic upon him at one point in the altered story line.

**DarkStarPhoenix- **Not sure when exactly, but Sig will be the one to break the news to him about just who Jak is, though Damas will be somewhat…confused and hesitant at first. Kage won't be unleashed here, that little bloodbath will be reserved for the next chapter, much to the surprise of all Wastelander's who are present. Thanks for the torture ideas, I'll try to fit it in somehow. Plus I'm thinking about having the Precursors 'draft' him into the armed forces for the final battle, what do you think?

**Evil Manic- **Thanks for the ideas, my friend. And, its funny that you should mention gunblades…well…you'll just have to read hehe. Hope you enjoy it, and please let me know of any other ideas, as the Marauder/Wastelanders use bullet weapons. (Kleiver's packing an A.K. while Seth has a PSG-1 for example).

**jaklover123**- You need no worry, as Damas will survive in my story. (That was evil beyond words…casts an ultima spell in the general direction of whoever thought that up) Hope you like it, and please let me know of anything you'd like to see happen.

**GoodMourningBeautiful2005- **Really wish I had enough time to turn out more than one chapter a week, but between school and everything else I have to do, I unfortunately can't. Still, should the opportunity present itself, I shall try to update more often.

**Philoworm**- A God, me? If only. Trust me, if I was a deity, this world would be very different though I'd likely let the power go to my head. Hope school turns out okay for you, and that this chapter was worth the wait.

**exodus12188**- Glad to hear that you've finally joined the community, and I look forward to any fics that you might write. Thanks for the idea on how to get Keira out into the Wasteland. While it won't be exactly the same, I think I now know how I can pull it off, though it'll probably be about chapter eleven or so before she gets out there. Hope you enjoy the chapter.

**animedragongirl- **Got your note, and I'm glad that you like our favorite demon's 'theme song'. Though, I'm not exactly certain what you meant by list of characters. At any rate, sorry to hear about your flame, and if it is that particular…member…then the best thing I can say is to either ignore her, and send her a really nasty virus. Best of luck on Jak X, and please tell me there is JxK in there…(gives sad anime eyes)

**Fang- **Okay, here's the update, hope you like it.

**Exardas- **Thanks for the vote of confidence, I was really worried about that last chapter (endings are not my strongpoint). Not really sure when our dark elf will find out about his old man, I'll let you know when I think of it. Hope you like the chapter I wrote up, and best of luck to you in your own writings.

**Silvereyes18-** Glad to hear that you liked the story thus far. Hopefully, I'll be able to continue to please. I'll also try to keep my updates as frequent and regular as I can.

**gamehead64- **(camera zooms in on ruined headquarters of N.D. only to be blinded a moment later as another ultima spell detonates) Hehe…that felt good. I'll be frank, the third game needed some work, as both that scene in the ending and the whole Precursors are Ottsels deal, not mention Errol's unexplained return from the dead, all make it seem as though they were spur of the moment decisions that totally wrecked the plot. At any rate, might I know where you found these pics? As I need to stir hope in my heart again.

**SRHumphrey727- **Well, Fall Break ain't much of a break when one has teacher's planning multiple tests for the very day that you return. Ahh well, such is life. Hope you like the chapter, and that it is sufficiently bloody.

**Hybrid- **Glad that you liked the AU idea, expect to see more. Not really sure on when Damas and Jak will finally have their tender 'reunion' but Sig will fill Damas in on the situation once he returns to the scene.

**Shadow Cael- **You flatter me, and thanks for having faith in me, as I have serious self confidence problems. I hope that I continue to make this story worth you time and that I do not disappoint with future AU ideas that may emerge from my demented brain.

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Glad to hear that you plan on updating soon, and did you get my second e-mail? Oh yeah, don't worry about him getting Kitetsu back, as he will, right before he proceeds to paint the Arena red with Marauder blood. Heheheheheh. Hope to see your work soon, and please let me know of anything you'd like to see in this story.

**Crazed Demon- **Yes, grove he has, along with the ability to kick copious amounts of butt.

**Dark priestess666- **I am pleased that this story appeals to you, and I do hope that the flamemail that flooded their computers regarding the third game convinced them to get off whatever kind of crack they were on. (crosses fingers) Hope you like this chapter, and please let me know what you think.

**Yuuzora- **No Kage in this chapter, you'll have to wait for the next one to watch him unleash his samuraish fury, though it will be on something far more dangerous than Marauders, hehe. Hope this chapter proves to be worth the wait. Oh yeah, and Seth will be neither minor nor major in his role, if you know what I mean.

**JakxKeira4ever- **I am honored that you think so well of me, but there are authors out here way better than me. Check out Cyrex's work, Jak and Daxter, Dark War if you want a really good read.

To those of you who read but did not review, I hope that this story has proven itself worth your while, and that I have not driven anyone insane with the poor quality of writing.

Lawyers: I own nothing save those characters that have been spawned of my own brain who are likely to be dead before all is said and done at any rate, so bugger off!

That said, please enjoy.

* * *

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Gladiator

He sat on the stone, his eyes closed and his breathing deep and even. Faintly around him, he heard the rippling and babbling of the spring water that ran through the throne room of the city of Spargus, home of the Wastelanders.

To say that he had been surprised to learn of an entire civilization living out in this gods' forsaken place would have been an understatement of grand proportions. He hadn't found out a whole lot about the city, though, as almost as soon as he'd gotten here, he and Daxter had been put in this place, and while the ottsel had immediately started to use the water as an impromptu swimming pool, he had opted to meditate. They weren't certain what had happened to Pecker, as Valthos had taken him away with Kleiver and the other Wastelander, Seth, if he recalled correctly.

What fate awaited the two of them, he did not know, but he was alive for the moment, and he'd figure out what to do upon learning more information about this place.

"Ahhh yes." Daxter suddenly exclaimed with a pleasant sigh, causing Jak to open his eyes. "I love water. Water good, desert bad!"

"I would appreciate it if you would get out of that, as it makes up a good deal of our drinking water." Came a voice from behind.

The dark elf and the ottsel turned to see Valthos, looking at the latter of the two with what appeared to be a stern expression on what little of his face was visible. There was a kind of strength, a strange power almost, to those eyes, which looked old beyond their time, and after about two seconds of glaring at the furry rodent, Daxter complied with the request, hopping out of the water and shaking himself dry.

"I still can't believe that an entire city exists outside of Haven's walls." Jak muttered, shaking his head.

"Ahh yes…" the Sand King growled with a similar gesture. "We are the forgotten ones, a combination of exiles such as yourself and native born people who are the descendants of citizens thrown out and left to die." His eyes suddenly had a faraway look to them, and for a moment, Jak thought he saw a slightly waver in those steel hard eyes. "At any rate, we saved your lives, and now they belong to us. Rest assured, we intend to use them, provided that they are actually worth anything."

"Hey that sounds like a bad deal!" Daxter exclaimed, crossing his arms and huffing.

"You are in no position to 'deal,' rodent." Valthos growled, before motioning for the two of them to follow him.

As he turned, Jak saw Kitetsu, strapped to his back along with his normal weapon, and he narrowed his eyes into a glare, growling silently as he saw the Wastelander ruler displaying a weapon that was his by right and birth. Faintly, he almost felt as though he could hear the Precursor forged katana calling for him, pleading for the dark elf to take it back into his hands, the hands of the one it had chosen to wield it.

'**_It is almost as if he is taunting us!' _**Kage rumbled, still very much irate over the manner in which they'd been forced to surrender the heirloom.

'_Don't worry, Kage.' _Jak told his guardian oni. _'We'll get it back, and the consequences be damned. I'm not about to fork over my only link to my past without a fight.'_

'**_What should we do for now?' _**the winged demon asked, raising an eyebrow within his mind's eye.

'_We wait,' _the Ascended Channeler replied as he and Daxter joined the Wastelander on the lift that led down to the desert city, _'an opportunity will present itself soon enough.'_

"So what's going on?" Jak inquired, throwing up the hood of his electro-mesh armor, hiding his face and eyes, as he didn't feel like revealing those alien irises to the whole population.

"You're going to be tested to see if you are of any use to us." Valthos returned, not bothering to turn around and face him.

"And what exactly will this test be?" Daxter inquired. "Is it too much to hope for multiple choice?"

"Part of being a Wastelander is being prepared to meet any challenge, even those not foreseen." Was the reply the diminutive rodent received.

The ottsel's face fell almost instantly, realizing that it probably meant some sort of gruesome, death trap filled maze or a combat test of some sort. He really, really hated those kinds of tests, as he and Jak had just about had their fill of them. He also silently prayed that no strange sort of box puzzle awaited them, as had been in a few exceedingly frustrating cases in the past.

The lift reached the bottom, and the three of them stepped out into the desert city, with Jak following the Sand King at a four pace interval, Daxter carefully balancing himself upon the ferrosteel shoulder pauldron of his armor.

* * *

The door opened, and the dark elf stepped out onto the man made metal platform that was suspended above the lava pit that served as a training arena for the rawer Wastelanders and some of the veterans who whished to polish their skills.

His cowl was still down, hiding his face from the populace that filled the stands, eagerly awaiting the coming event. It wasn't every day that an outsider performed within here, and all of them wanted to see how well he would do. Or perhaps, given the apparent general consensus among these desert dwelling elves that anyone hailing from Haven City was a weakling, how long he would last.

'**_They will be in for a surprise, won't they?' _**Kage mused suddenly, a wry smile upon his fanged muzzle.

'_Yeah.' _Jak concurred._ ' Though I'm hoping whatever I'm up against, that using our powers won't be necessary, I'd rather keep you and them under wraps if at all possible.' _

'**_That is understandable, seeing as how I am the reason you were exiled from Haven in the first place.' _**The oni muttered, lowering his head with a frown.

'_Stop blaming yourself for that!' _Jak growled, anger in his tone. _'Veger and the rest of the Grand Council are the ones responsible for us being dumped out here, not you!'_

The Dark Eco demon fell silent after that, and the Ascended Channeler took the time to stare around the stands, searching for a certain elf. Soon enough, he found Valthos sitting upon a metal throne, Kitetsu was leaning against one side of the throne, while the Sand King's own weapon, which Jak had learned was called a 'gun blade' leaned against the other.

It was, without a doubt, the single most bizarre melee weapon that the dark elf had ever gazed upon. It had a blade very similar to a broadsword, or at least the bottom part of it was, starting off at about two inches in width, before jumping out to four a couple of inches away from the 'hilt,' and then tapering down to the point. The top part of the blade, however, was straight, and had a rifle barrel of some sort concealed within it, which ended about an inch and a half before the tip of the sword, whereupon the metal curved down to meet the lower point. The hilt and grip were even stranger, as the rear part of it resembled the stock of a hunting rifle, while the forward area had finger grips one normally associated with a pistol. Just in front of that were the trigger and the guard that surrounded it.

Jak had no clue where the ammo was kept, or even what the blade fired, but he couldn't help but wonder who had come up with such a weapon in the first place.

Continuing his scan of the throne box, he saw that Daxter was there as well, it having been decided that he would only be a hindrance in the coming challenge.

As the section of the platform that he was standing upon suddenly detached itself from the rest of the arena and made its way up to where the Sand King sat (by way of a fairly complex and sophisticated hydraulics system, and the reason as to why Eco powered repulsor lifts were not used escaped the dark elf for the moment), he noticed Kleiver and Seth flanking him, as well as a certain multi-colored monkeet.

"Pecker?" he exclaimed as he drew closer, surprised to see the familiar at the king's proverbial right hand. "Where have you been?"

"Unlike you two," the monkeet replied in his accented voice, glaring at dark elf and Ottsel alike, "there are some in this world who appreciate my talents." He then smirked. "Valthos says that I am to be his new counselor and that my wisdom will serve him well. Let me tell you, it beats working for a living. He also says that you will most likely die in a very horrible and painful way and…"

"Will you can it, bird brain?" Daxter growled, irritated about the whole darn situation, and once again wishing that he could be more than just a bit of baggage to his best friend. "Valthos can speak for himself!"

"The feathered one is correct." the Sand King said quietly. "You will most likely die in the arena. Very few people not of this place have gone through it and have crawled out of it with enough life left in them to boast of the deed." He paused, and looked Jak straight in the eyes, or, at least, as best he could with his cowl down like that. "Here, we will determine whether or not you are strong enough to be of any use to us."

"I saw some of the fights earlier." Pecker stated, before a slight shudder came over him, "Eeehhhh, not a pretty sight."

Jak went to reply, but before he could, the monkeet cleared his throat and spoke out loudly, the strange acoustics of the arena letting all present hear his voice.

"Welcome, citizens of Spargus, to the arena, where we get to sit back and watch others wet themselves in fear!" there was a scattered cheering and a few jeers at this, before the familiar held up his wings to call for silence. "Now, for your viewing pleasure, exiled from Haven City and plucked from the desert by the hand of fate, I give you…Jak!"

The dark elf turned around slowly, as the cheering and whatnot grew to a crescendo. He then watched, amazed, as the arena rearranged itself, turning into an obstacle filled gauntlet of sorts. Once that moment of awe passed, though, a smirk formed underneath his cowl. If this was the best that they could throw at him, then getting through would be a breeze.

Such were his thoughts as the platform he was on moved back to the start of the course, and he prepared himself to show these Wastelanders just what the Heir of Mar could do.

* * *

He'd made it through without a hitch, throwing in some flashing and dangerous acrobatics for the heck of it. At the end, another platform had carried him back up to the waiting king.

"Nice to see you haven't forgotten the moves I showed ya, old buddy." Daxter said, a beaming grin upon his face.

"Anyone can make a few measly jumps." Valthos replied, glancing down at the diminutive rodent. "Now then, Jak, let us see how you fare against the living." he said, before calling out in a louder voice. "Readjust the arena structure, prepare it for full combat!"

"Prepare it for full combat!" Pecker echoed, getting him a glance from the Sand King.

"I just said that." The cloaked elf replied, raising an eyebrow.

"I know." the familiar said. "I was just…you know…adding the whole thing… how you do with the... anyway. Prepare the warriors!"

"What am I going up against?" Jak inquired, cocking his head slightly.

"Marauders." was the answer that he got from Valthos. "They are in short, the scum of the desert, worthy of neither pity nor mercy. The ones here are prisoners of war, fighting in the arena or toiling in the few factories that we have below."

"How many?" the dark elf asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"A dozen, all of them armed and armored." Kleiver said a smirk further disrupting his scarred face.

"And to even the odds…" Valthos muttered, before reaching around behind his throne and throwing the elf something that he could only assume was a gun of some sort.

It was, however, without a doubt, the strangest looking blaster he had ever seen. It was made entirely of gray, unpainted metal, and it was about two and a half feet in length. An old fashion 'V' and circle sight appeared to be the only means of aiming the strange gun, and its ammo, at least, he assumed it was the ammo holder, was limited to a banana shaped part that was coming down from in front of the trigger guard. Wiggling it back and forth, the Ascended Channeler was able to detached it, and looking inside, found it half filled with some sort of strange, needle shaped metal objects. He reattached the clip, noticing the large bayonet type attachment running along the underside of the barrel, obviously intended for melee attacks.

A gun…once he had used such weapons, but he vowed never to use them again if he had any other options available. Just holding this strange rifle, the dark elf couldn't help but remember times when he had nearly let his rage consume him and destroy every thing that he had ever cared about or for. It might not have been very practical to think along such lines, but he had powers far more destructive than any rifle to call upon if he needed to, and Torn had also taught him some rudimentary Echani hand to hand combat skills. He'd use those for now.

So, reaching his decision, he deliberately dropped the weapon at the feet of the ruler of Spargus, before turning back around and letting the platform carry him back down to the newly reassembled arena.

"Will you look at that, people!" he heard Pecker exclaimed behind him. "Spitting upon his opponents' skills, Jak has opted to face them without a weapon!"

There was a deafening silence after this, and all watched this turn of event with interest. Valthos in particular leaned forward upon his throne, rubbing his chin through his cloth mask. Sig had told many a tale about this elf, though had been a little dodgy in some areas, almost as if he had been hiding something. But there was one thing that his old friend had stressed and it was that the dark elf could hold his own in a fight, but that he did very much disdain guns, though he'd never been clear on the why.

And so he looked eagerly on as another platform brought a dozen Marauders onto the battle arena, all of them eager to kill and live to fight another day. They grinned behind their helmets, thinking one elf, apparently unarmed, would hardly be a challenge for them.

The poor sods literally had no idea what they were going up against.

They walked onto the main arena, and Jak looked them over. Most were armed with blades, though one of them looked to have a rifle very similar to the one that he had left back up at the throne. They were eyeing him as well, and were no doubt whispering stratagems and possible battle tactics amongst themselves.

"Begin!" Valthos cried.

The rifle carrier opted to stand back and watch as the ones armed with blades rushed at him. Jak assumed an Echani combat stance as Torn had showed him, and awaited the onslaught that was barreling towards him.

The first Marauder reached him, and brought his large, double handed scimitar down in a vicious chop, trying to split him in half. In a blur of motion, the Ascended Channeler reacted, swatting the weapon aside with his right hand, while twisting and bringing up his left foot, smashing his ferrosteel plated boot into the heavily muscled elf's helmet. The armored elf grunted and fell back one step, only to meet with the toe of the other boot as Jak pushed off the ground and followed through with a horizontal spin.

He went down, hard, and Jak immediately found himself having to deal with two of his comrades, both of them swiping at him at the same time. He ducked underneath the attacks, before spinning around with his left leg extended, sweeping both of their feet out from underneath them. He followed through with a second spin, this time aiming for their chests. Both went down and found their breath knocked from their lungs as they hit the metal of the arena floor and skidded for a few feet.

From the stands, Valthos watched with increasing interest as Jak worked with what little of the martial arts that he knew. The Sand King was very much impressed with what he had seen thus far, but he knew that the boy was going to have to do a little better than that if he wanted to come out alive from this battle, as Marauders were rather tough, and it would take more than a few kicks to bring them down. In fact, the first three elves that he had faced were already getting back to their feet and grabbing their weapons as the exile moved on to his other opponents.

Daxter was feverishly biting at his nails, wishing that there was something he could do to help his old buddy, alas, he could not, and he hated himself for it.

The three Marauders that had been downed earlier were charging back at the dark elf from behind whilst another trio kept him hoping and dodging about. The crowd held its breath as they charged into the fray, certain that the killing blow was about to occur. However, a warning from his inner demon gave Jak plenty of heads up in regards to the three returning to the melee, and the crowd was suddenly open mouthed in shock as they watched him vault up more than twenty five feet into the air. He performed a back flip, and landed some distance away from his foes, spreading out his left arm and his legs to absorb the force of the impact.

During the maneuver, his hood had fallen back, and as he glared back at his opponents. They, and those people with front row seats, beheld his slitted and utterly alien eyes for the first time.

The Marauders hesitated for a few moments, unsure of what to make of this phenomenon, and it gave Jak the time he needed to think. While he had progressed rapidly in his hand to hand combat training with Torn, things had gone down the crapper before he had been able to learn the more advanced tiers of the style, which left him predominantly with moves that were meant to disable and incapacitate. Not only did he lack the knowledge of the more advanced killing techniques, but for the most part, the disabling moves required one to hit either the face, neck, or one of the pressure points located along the arm. In the cases of his current opponents, all of these areas were covered by spiked battle armor, and Jak had little desire to inflict pain upon himself, healing factor or no.

He growled slightly, there had to be a way for him to beat these guys that did not involve revealing Kage or the full extent of his powers.

It was then that inspiration graced him, and he knew what he could do. He glanced up at where Valthos and the others were sitting at, and saw Kitetsu still leaning against the Sand King's throne. With a wicked smile, he stretched out his arm, calling to the blade.

Daxter saw what his friend was doing, and let out a sigh of relief, and Pecker simply smirked while the three Wastelanders attempted to figure out what in the Nine Hells Jak was attempting to do. The elves in the box seat were suddenly distracted by a rattling sound, and they peered about attempting to locate the source of the noise. Valthos looked over, and felt his eyes widen as he saw Kitetsu rattling in its scabbard. The very next second, both dark katana and scabbard were airborne, as the partially sentient blade answered the call of its master.

The crowd saw it too, as did the dark elf's opponents, and they rushed forward to stop him from acquiring the weapon, knowing on some instinctive level that they would be in big trouble if he got it.

He grasped the Sword of Kings around its scabbard as the first Marauder lunged at him. Jak threw himself to the side as the other elf did so, but did not fully escape the thrust, as it caught him along his jawbone, cutting deep and drawling a large line of Dark Eco infused blood. The blow would be costly for the armored elf, though, as Jak flipped the blade around to where he held it upside down, before slamming the butt end of it into the Marauder's neck. The purple Dark Eco crystal at the end of the hilt pierced through the steel collar that the elf had on, and punctured his jugular, sealing his fate.

Another masked foe charged in from the right, his blade cocked back and ready to try his luck at spilling Jak's blood. However, the Marauder met with a surprise in the form of more acrobatics from the dark elf. Jak leapt up as the scimitar came in, and the blade sailed harmlessly underneath him. At the same time he also flipped himself upside down and spun around, drawing his weapon and bringing Kitetsu in line with his opponent's neck. The dark katana hissed, and sheered through the Marauder's spiked collar like it was cardboard, decapitating him smoothly. The corpse hit the ground, blood starting to gush from the stump of the neck at the same time that the Ascended Channeler hit the ground. Scabbard held in one hand, blade in the other, the dark elf looked out across the arena to his ten remaining opponents.

"How did he do that?" Valthos finally asked out loud, not expecting an answer.

Thus he was very much surprised when Pecker offered him one.

"Kitetsu has been awakened, my liege," the monkeet replied with a bow, "and now it heeds only the voice of its master, the one who can use it to its greatest potential."

"I see…" the Sand King replied, returning his attention down to the arena, where Jak was currently adding insult to injury by mocking his opponents.

"Come on, come on, who's next?" the dark elf inquired with a smirk, while his adversaries stared at him, their looks of horror hidden behind their masks.

The dark elf then flipped Kitetsu around, to where he was holding the Precursor forged blade as if it were a knife. He also extended his left hand and arched himself to where he was leaning forward a slight bit upon the balls of his feet. Valthos' eyes widened upon seeing that stance, as did Kleiver's. The kid knew the Ataru fighting style? That was something to brag about.

Returning his attention to the battle below, he watched as three charged at him, yelling battle cries at the top of their lungs. The dark elf smiled a feral grin as they closed, the first one bringing his two handed scimitar in from his left, trying to split him at the waist. Jak brought the scabbard of his blade down, swatting it aside while bringing Kitetsu itself across his foe's chest. There blade hissed eerily as it always did when swung, once more sounding as if it was cutting the air itself. The Ascended Channeler felt the slightest hint of resistance as his sword hit the steel armor of his adversary, and tore through it in an instant, continuing through and shredding internal organs as he brought it up at an angle to emerge from the Marauder's right shoulder.

As the body was falling apart, Jak's next foe, circling in from behind, struck out then, trying to run him through. At the same time, lucky number three brought his sword down in a fierce chop. Jak ducked, and the two weapons clanked harmlessly against each other. Before the two could react to the sudden evasive maneuver, though, they were forced to come to terms with the fact that they could no longer feel their legs. They found out why about half a second later, as the dark elf, spinning around, suddenly picked himself up on the knuckles of his left hand, got into a one fisted handstand, and while still spinning, lashed out with his armored feet. Both of them went sailing backwards, leaving their legs behind at the kneecaps, howling as blood gushed from their stumps.

'**_Heads up!' _**Kage warned, and Jak instinctively pushed off out of his maneuver and threw himself to one side.

It was a good thing that he did, as the Marauder who was armed with that strange rifle had just joined the battle, taking aim and opening fire upon the dark elf. As he rolled, the elf shot at him again, and this time, Jak was able to notice the ammunition of these bizarre weapons in action. A trio of orange colored flashes shot by him, pinging off of the metal arena and flying away, ruling out any possibility of it being an Eco based weapon.

Regardless of whatever it was that that thing was shooting at him, it was important that he take that guy out, and fast. Tapping into his superhuman speed and reflexes, the dark elf blasted towards the rifleman, jumping and dodging and spinning in a bid to throw off his aim.

Back up in the stands, Valthos rubbed his chin as he and the others stared down at Jak, once again marveling at what the elf was proving himself capable of doing.

"By the gods," Kleiver stated, shaking his head in awe, "he is fast."

"You ain't seen nothing yet." Daxter remarked cheekily, smirking up at the elves as Jak got to within thirty feet of the rifle totting Marauder.

They were to be further astounded when Jak leapt out to one side, dodging one last burst of fire, and throwing Kitetsu end over end towards the masked elf. His foe barely had time to let his eyes widen in surprise before two and a half feet of blade sheared through his armor and sunk in up to its hilt in his chest. He went down, his death throes causing him to fire into the air a few times as his fingers spasmed over the trigger. The Ascended Channeler extended his hand once again after that, summoning the blade back to him, and then turning to face his remaining six opponents.

He paused, deciding to let them come to him, whirling Kitetsu around for a little bit, letting his doomed adversaries know of their fate, and accentuating this fact by waltzing over to one of the legless elves that was still alive, and quickly rectifying that problem.

Nonetheless, Marauders were not exactly known for being a kind of people who just lay down and died, so they came at him en masse, a desperate attempt to overwhelm him through their numbers.

They had no way of knowing that Jak had taken on odds much greater than six to one and come out completely unscathed. No way of realizing that they faced the same elf who had destroyed one of the most powerful creatures to have ever existed. Fortunately for them, Death would be mercifully swift in his arrival.

The first one to reach melee range with him brought his sword down at an angle from the right, and found Kitetsu waiting for it. The dark katana scored a deep gouge in the Marauder's own weapon before the larger elf pulled the blade back to try again. As he did so, Jak spun about, his sword still held as if it were a knife. The two blades clanged harshly against one another once again, except that this time, Kitetsu proved just how bad its bite was, slicing through the other sword before doing the same thing to its wielder. The elf fell apart, cut in half at his sternum as Jak rolled out of the way of a lunge from one of his comrades. The Ascended Channeler followed the move through by coming up and spinning about again, making that particular Marauder shorter by a head.

He looked back over to the four remaining Marauders, who were exchanging glances with each other, trying to avoid being sucked in by Jak's otherworldly eyes, while at the same time attempting to figure out how to get out of this mess alive.

As they were doing that, the dark elf went on the offensive, leaping towards them with a vault that carried him forward by a good twenty five feet. He landed right in front of one of them, burying Kitetsu into the Marauder's heart, before yanking the dark katana out and spinning around, blocking one attack with the Kitetsu's sheath while simultaneously twirling the blade and vertically bisecting the foe closest to his right.

With just the two of them against their army of one type foe, the remaining Marauder's never had half a chance, and the first one got the Ascended Channeler's blade right through his helmet. As he pulled the dark katana back out, Jak noticed the last one charging at him, his double handed sword held up high above his head, screaming like a man possessed. However, the dark elf was far from intimidated by the battle cry, and with a look of bored contempt, lashed out as soon as his foe was in striking range.

The Marauder paused, his eyes widening in confusion for a moment, his blade still held high in the air.

Jak, standing in front of him, backed away for a second or two, as if admiring the job he had just done. Apparently satisfied, he began to sheath his weapon. However, he paused for a brief instant just as he was about to finish. He waiting there like that for about half a second, before letting it slide home with a 'chink' at the same time that the Marauder finally fell to the ground, cut in half a the waist.

An awed hush fell over the crowd for a few seconds, before a single clapping broke out amongst the stands, which rapidly snowballed into thundering applause.

"Holy hell…" Kleiver remarked in his Aussie accent, his eyes wide. "I'd say he's a keeper."

Valthos remained silent, staring hard at Jak as he watched the elf step onto the platform that would lead him back up to him.

Jak's attention was suddenly focused upon something else as well. Off to the right of the box in which the Sand King was sitting, he noticed another elf. She, at least, he assumed it was a she, was covered from head to toe in some rather strange clothing and what appeared to be bronze colored armor. Even more bizarre was her face, tattooed in a strange pattern of white, yellow, and orange. These colors helped to accent her strange eyes, which almost appeared to be a burgundy type color, and they were currently glaring at him with a look of loathing.

'**_What's her problem?' _**Kage growled, something about her putting him on edge.

'_Not sure, but she certainly doesn't seem to like us all that much.' _Jak replied, before another accusing voice yanked them both back to reality.

"Something about yourself that you forget to mention, exile?" Valthos said, getting him a confused look from the dark elf. "You missed a spot." he said, pointing to his left cheek.

Jak put his hand up to that particular region, and felt it, Dark Eco slowly making its way down his cheek from a wound he had received but had totally forgotten about. The cut itself had healed already, but his Eco infused blood remained where it was, a sign for the entire world to see that he was not all that he seemed.

"He has been infused with Dark Eco, my liege." Pecker stated, a rare note of humility present in his voice.

"And how did he survive that?" the ruler of Spargus inquired, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at the monkeet.

"Because I'm a Channeler." Jak growled, wiping the blood from his cheek and throwing his hood back up over his head.

"Yeah, and he gets really big and nasty if you piss him off," Daxter added, smirking up at the Wastelanders, "so make sure ya don't get on his bad side. Word to the wise."

"Well…" Valthos mused, rubbing his chin through his mask, wondering why Sig had neglected to mention something like that. "A Channeler, eh? So, you're dangerous then…which means you can be of use to us."

"I'll warn you here and now," the dark elf said, his voice cold enough to turn fire into ice, "I've been used in the past, and I don't take kindly to it. I also wouldn't advise you to do something to make yourself my enemy."

"You're rather sure of yourself." Seth stated abruptly, raising an eyebrow.

"I've got reason to be." Jak said, one edge of his mouth turning up slightly. "I've had a lot of enemies in my short life, and there isn't one alive right now to tell you how big of a mistake it is to become one."

"We'll keep that in mind." Valthos said, before pulling something from his cloak. "As for your performance in the arena, your skill and bravery have earned you your first battle amulet. Win twice more against similar challenges, and you will be considered a citizen of our fair city."

"So what are we now?" Daxter asked, a slight grumble present in his voice.

"People living off of our charity." the Sand King remarked, before turning and heading out the back door. "Seth," he called as he looked back over his shoulder briefly, "show them to their quarters, and let them rest up, they start out with us first thing tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sire." the lanky Wastelander replied, before motioning for Jak and Daxter to follow him.

"One last thing." Valthos stated abruptly, causing them to halt momentarily. "As another award for your accomplishment here today, I'll let you keep that blade," he motioned towards Kitetsu, "it seems to have a liking for you at any rate."

* * *

Daxter was curled up into a ball, sleeping on the small bedspread that had been provided for him. Jak, however, was still awake, staring out into the chilling night of the Wasteland, his slitted eyes piercing to the heavens.

His left hand was absentmindedly fiddling with the gold band he had on his right, twisting it back and forth as his thoughts drifted to his soul mate, back in Haven.

Keira, what was she doing now? Was she staring at the few pictures they had of each other? Was she perhaps pulling another all nighter in her workshop, trying to devote herself totally to creating another gizmo that might turn the tide of the war, determined to fight on in his absence? The possibility also entered his head that she might have been devising some sort of elaborate and painful revenge upon Veger, never mind that she'd already mangled him rather thoroughly. After all, such a thing would be well within her abilities, and Jak couldn't say that he would exactly be sorry to see the arrogant noble sent packing.

But whatever she was doing, he just wished that he was there with her, helping her, holding her…

'**_We will see her again.' _**Kage said in a calm and gentle voice, smiling slightly, before letting poison slip into his tone. **_'And I promise you now, if that thrice be damned councilman interferes, I'll deal with him…slowly.'_**

'_I won't try to stop you.' _Jak told his guardian devil, a glare coming to his eyes as he thought of the man that had turned his life into a living hell just to throw the blame for everything on him.

Even Praxis, for all of his sins, had turned him into a weapon in the hopes of winning a war and saving countless lives. For all that his uncle had done to him, in the end, Kor would have triumphed had he not put him through the Dark Warrior Program.

Shaking his head abruptly, he let his mind drift back to more pleasant things, such as his wife.

* * *

Keira stared at the ceiling of her apartment, her hands behind her head and her own thoughts drifting.

Jak, gods above, she worried for him, prayed to whoever might have been listening that he would be safe. They'd been through too much to let something happen to them now, now that things had finally been starting to go their way. After Gol and Maia, all that time alone in Haven, fighting for her own survival amongst the dregs of society, and the sick torture that Errol had put him through, and nearly her as well, and the whole deal with Kor, it looked as if they were finally going to be able to settle down and resume a fairly normal life.

They'd even been planning on when they might start a family, granted, they figured they'd wait about a two or three years before that happened, but they were still thinking about it. That was one reason why she'd gone ballistic on Veger, his remark had hit a little close to home.

But then the Count and his cronies on the Grand Council had found themselves in need of a scapegoat, and had used the fact that her husband had worked for Krew during a few points of his service with the Underground as sufficient reason to have him exiled to what they were certain would be his death.

But they didn't know him like she did, didn't know the strength that lay within him, the sheer will to live that he possessed.

But that didn't ease the pain in her heart that she felt. Shifting about again, she stared over to a framed photograph, one of only about a dozen that they had. They were in the forest that surrounded Haven City, holding each other close and beaming ear to ear. Recalling that image, and desperately holding onto it, Keira shut her eyes, and tried to fall asleep, knowing that tomorrow would be another long day, and there was a war to fight.

But sleep eluded both elves for some time, as they tried to curl up and let oblivion take them. Despite the wrappings they covered themselves in, both were cold, and each missed the warmth that only the other soul mate could provide.

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And yes, I know the romance was sappy beyond all belief, and therefore needs lots and lots of work. If anyone has any advice on how I might improve please let me know.

Also, let me know what you thought of the chapter, be it in the form of a comment, constructive criticism, or even a flame, and be certain to have yourselves a nice day.

I'll see you next week, hopefully, provided we don't get blown off of the map over here.


	4. Round em up

(Materlizes, a smile visible beneath his cowl)

Hello everyone, good to see you all and I'm glad to not have been blasted off the map by Wilma. Aside from that, I finally managed to get my hands on a copy of Advent Children, and I must say that is one of the most awesome video game movie flicks of all time.

Also, I have finally seen scenes from the end of Jak-X, which has made me very happy, though I won't give anything away.

Now then, to those of you kind enough to review:

**Saiorse- **I'll keep your motivation in mind, and I hope that you find this chapter to be worth your while. Hope you enjoy it

**Philoworm- **I'd loan you Kage, but he's currently assisting EyesLikeSilk in her crusade to destroy all things Mary-Sue, and making quite a bloodbath of it, if the screams and security camera footage is any indication…Don't worry about Jak's darker powers, he'll unleash them very, very soon. Not to mention that he'll be picking up the modified Mar's Armor in chapter six, which will definitely make him more dangerous than ever…

**GoodMourningBeautiful2005- **Here's the next update, hope you like it, and I hope that you found my advice somewhat helpful.

**Meowen- **Glad you liked it, but I have to stress that Valthos isn't an OC, its just Damas in disguise, as with Jak remembering his past, things would get awkward fast. Hope you like the chapter.

**Xeno-Freak- **Good to hear from you again, and I am glad that I have been able to please. I hope you like this chapter, and please update your own story soon, it is also proving to be a rather entertaining tale, and I can't wait to see your version of Errol unleashed.

**MariaShadow- **Glad you liked the fight scene, there about the only thing that I can do worth a flip. As for Damas revealing himself to Jak, it won't be for a while, Sig has to give him the 411 first, and then he has to work up the nerve, if you catch my drift.

**Farr2rich- **Glad that you liked the chapter, and I apologize for the sappiness of the romance, probably due to the lack thereof in my own life…at any rate, I hope that you find this chapter enjoyable, and that I was able to be helpful in my review of your own story. Best of luck to you in that venture, and update soon.

**YamiTenshi14- **A scythe? Thank you! I have an as of yet unrevealed villain who was in need of a weapon, and I think that a Scythe, or a modification of one, would serve nicely. (bows in humility). That said, I hope you like this chapter, and that it was worth the wait.

**Air of Mystery- **So you're not the only one to think that was a bit strange, good. I've made some change ups, so don't worry. As for the projectiles, those were supposed to be phosphorus, tracer rounds, but I'm not sure if I did it right. Along a similar line, the gunblade is a weapon from Final Fantasy 8, and Damas' version is essentially just a rifle barrel planted into a broadsword blade, with a rather unusual hilt. It's a surprisingly lightweight weapon and can even be sued effectively with one hand. (if you'd like, I could e-mail you a round picture of what it looked like)

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Thanks for the vote of confidence, and if you ever have any advice to give me, please share. You seem to have a good grasp of the whole romance deal, which is beyond my comprehension for the most part. That said, update your own stories soon, please. (Have you managed to beat Jak-X yet? If so, please tell me what happens. (crosses fingers))

**SilverEyes18- ** Glad you liked the chapter, and worry not, for Veger will indeed be thrashed many times in the future (the next one will probably revolve around Jak scarring the crap outta him after he meets with Seem). Don't know about killing him, but I think he might get 'drafted' towards the end, if you know what I mean.

**CISELKANEO2- **Thank you very much for the base building gear and the assests, they will likely prove useful in my bid for world domination…or at least putting my younger brother in his place. Don't worry, Jak and Keira will get back together, and Veger will get his comeuppance. Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy the chapter.

**animedragongirl-** Thanks for the help with the ending, and I'm happy you got a laugh out of Big Box Mart (it is amusing in a sad but true sort of way) Good luck with Jak X, and I once might be able to get the next chapter to you by Saturday. Heavens, how I wish my teachers would lay off for a bit…

**DarkStarPhoenix- **Sorry if Damas forking over Kitetsu was OOC, hopefully I'll be able to explain that in a few chapters. As for your question on the Eco types, I think Light or Green would heal, Red or Blue would do nil, and Dark or Yellow (if Channeled) would result in severe pain/death. Thanks for the Veger Torture idea, I think I know just how to implement that. (bows)

**Jakxkeira4ever- **Glad that you liked the story and the romance. Hope you also enjoyed reading Cyrex's work, as the guy really didn't get much recognition for how good he was. To that end, I hope you like this chapter, and please let me know what you think.

**Exardas- **Thanks for the vote of confidence and I am glad that you liked the blood bath. I also hope that you find this chapter to your liking and that you update Assassin's Secret soon. (I can't wait for the new version of DMC 3 to come out, the images of being able to play as Vergil will not leave my mind!)

**Evil Manic- **Thank you once again for the weapon ideas, but could you go into a little more detail, I've never had the chance to play those games, though there will be some weapons from M.G.S. making an appearance, as this chapter will reveal. Thanks in advance.

**Hybrid- **Glad that you liked it, action at least. I apologize at the romance, its never been something that I've been very good at, would you have any advice for someone who desperately needs to improve in that area?

**Crazed Demon- **Thanks for the vote of confidence, and I hope that this chapter is worth the week long wait.

**Yuuzora- **If you think Jak's fight's are complicated now, wait till he starts using Juyo again. (plus Tarath will teach him a hand to hand combat trick or two when he finally re-enters the picture, not to mention the 'changes' I've made to Mar's Armor will hopefully spice things up a bit.) Hope your grand parents are alright, as I think that Katrina showed us all that you don't have to be in the immediate path to be in danger.

**ShadowGhostInc.- **I'm glad that you liked Kage, as it always did bug me that everyone seems to think that just because he looks menacing, that he's this blood lust driven killing machine. (if they would bother to take a look, a lot of guys in comic books and the like look rather menacing, but are decent people, take Night Crawler for example). That said, I hope you like this chapter, and I'm not sure about kicking the butt of J.P., as waltzing up and attempting to plant my foot into the rear of a raptor doesn't sound like a healthy choice of action…

**SRHumphrey727- **Glad that you liked the work thus far, and if you have any advice, don't hesitate to share it. Plus, in a manner of speaking I think I manage to work the whole Sig relative deal into the story, though the person in question will likely be more of a little sister than a daughter…

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Sorry about updating behind your back, and I hope that you aren't sore about it. (chuckles nervously while scratching head) I also wanted to take a more 'primitive' approach with the way the arena was constructed, if you catch my drift, as that's what Spargus appeared to be in relations to Haven. Hope you don't mind, and may this chapter be worth the wait.

**jaklover123- **Glad you liked the story, and to answer your questions: 1. It's a really big hood (think like the Jedi/Sith hoods from Star Wars) 2. Jak's hair is still long, and will remain that way, though it will change in its style with the next chapter. 3. Purple means he's about to unleash some serious Dark Eco Channeling (like his Dark Mist for example) and Red means that Kage is pissed and about to make an appearance. 4. I was going for a bit of realism, no offense to Dax, but the way that Jak leaps, spins, and flips in his manner of fighting would make it impossible for Dax to hold on, even if he did manage to avoid getting sliced up with the way Jak's blades are flying around. Don't worry though, Daxter will play an important role in the final battle (one of the Fallen Precursor commanders will die by his hand is about all I can tell you)

**Beloved Rose- **(places rose in a vase) Thank you for your support, I've always had problems being confident in my work. I'm also glad that you liked reading about Keira and Jak's relationship, and the butt whooping that she unleashed upon Veger, and rest assured it will not be the last time that she hurts him. Also, I was wondering if you had any advice on making Tarath appear more 'human' if you will, as he will have a very large role to play in things. (several chapters will be him having flashbacks, to try to flesh him and the other major Precursors out, but I'm not sure if that will be enough to make him 'liked' by the readers if you know what I mean.)

**Wizard Surreal- ** I'm going to try and get Keira and Jak back together before he gets back to Haven, probably after his little confrontation in the arena with Sig. As for the rating going up, don't think so, I can't write those sort of scenes, but if you know anyone who would like to try, they're welcome to. Any romance advice? And I hope you like the latest installment.

**gamehead64- **(Looking up at the sky) So that's what that was…was afraid the sun had gone supernova for a moment. Not really going to be a 'light' personality in this story, though Kage will have several conversations with Keira while she's in her own Ascended Form, so don't worry about that. Hope you like this chapter, as our favorite demon makes his new debut in a smashing way.

To those who read but did not review, I hope that you have found this tale to be worth your while thus far, and that it may one day inspire you to write your own stories, if only to show me how its done.

Lawyers: after thirty nine chapters in two stories, I think we have established the fact that I do no own this series or anything in it, so leave me alone.

Special thanks to **animedragongirl **for once again beta reading this story and removing all the glaring errors from it.

Warning: disturbingly high amount of influence from the Mad Max movies in this chapter, just to warn you.

* * *

&

* * *

Round em up

A loud banging shook Daxter out a pleasant dream. It was one that he'd been having a lot lately, and he grumbled as the fantasy dissolved around him. It was always the same, involving him, miraculously restored to his elven form, Tess, some candles, and a nice secluded location.

He sighed as he saw Jak, who was apparently already awake despite the fact that the sun had yet to crest the horizon.

The ottsel let his mind go back to his dreams. Tess, the blond elf occupied his thoughts a good deal of the time lately. They were very open in their relationship with one another, and she really didn't seem to care that he was a foot and a half tall furry rodent with a fairly high pitched voice who had this annoying tendency to cower when danger drew nigh, she saw through all of that, saw him for what he really was: an honest and true friend.

But that didn't help him feel any better in the long run. He still felt…inadequate at times, like he wasn't everything that he could have been, everything that he should have been. Ever since he'd fallen into that pit of Dark Eco, which was, what, nearly four years ago? Gods, how the time flew. Ever since then, he'd been mocked and ridiculed by others. Granted, Jak, Keira, and the girl he loved, barring their first encounter with one another, had never poked fun at him. However, there were a great deal more that did so, Samos, Torn, Jinx, and Ashelin. Now he did realize that they probably didn't understand that they were inflicting some pain upon him, well, Samos did, but then he never really seemed to have liked him in the first place.

After all, when they made some verbal jab or remark about him, what did he do? He merely laughed it off and refused to let it show, hiding the agony behind another lame joke or charlatan boast.

Heh, everyone thought him so happy and carefree, but what would they think if they saw past that, beyond the mask that he always put up and the disguises he hid behind? What would they think if they saw him in his true light?

"Come on, Dax." Jak said abruptly, yanking the ottsel out of his angst filled thoughts.

He groaned and stretched while his elven comrade equipped his blade and slipped his armored coat on. Once the furry rodent was certain that he'd gotten all the kinks out of his system, he hopped down, and began following after his friend. Once he reached the doorway outside, he finally saw who had come knocking at this ungodly hour.

It was Kleiver and Seth, the two of them both carrying weapons and toting some makeshift armor. The larger of the two Wastelanders tossed Jak hunk of what was apparently dried meat of some kind, and he caught it with ease, before tearing off a rather nice sized piece and passing it back to Daxter, who promptly fell upon it like a rabid animal.

"So what exactly is it that we are doing?" the dark elf asked, pulling his hood up and hiding his face in the shadows of the cowl.

"You're heading out with Valthos and a few more of us into the Wasteland." Kleiver replied in his accented voice, adjusting his grip on his rifle, which Jak only now noticed had a blade of some kind on the bottom side of the stock.

"What for?" Daxter inquired, his voice muffled slightly by the food in it. "We just got yanked out of that place, so pardon me if I'm a little hesitant to go back in."

"We need to grab some more leaper lizards from the desert, give our breeding stock a little more variety, alright, fur ball?" Kleiver said.

The two of them remained silent after that, as they remembered the strange reptiles that they had seen around the city of Spargus, acting like a combination of transportation, beast of burden and as a predator to keep the local kangarat population in check and out of Kleiver's stocks. In a way, they almost reminded the duo of the flut-flut birds that they had ridden at Sandover.

Jak's face grew dark as he remembered the place where he had spent most of his life. Sandover had been a peaceful, costal fishing village, where not much ever happened aside from the ever occasional Lurker raid. Even with those attacks, compared to the places he'd been since, it would almost seem a paradise on earth, and Jak had always considered it his home, though he had been starting to develop something of an attachment to Haven before this fiasco had happened.

Unfortunately, he had been the driving force behind its destruction as well, when he, Keira, Samos, and Daxter had activated a Precursor Rift Gate that they had reconstructed, and unleashed Kor and company upon the hapless village. They'd also hurled themselves into the future, or perhaps it was still the past in his case, as his younger self had still been under the care of the Underground resistance movement in Haven.

He'd later found out what had happened to the place from Keira and her adoptive father, as they'd gone to a shrine set up in the Dead Town area. It was a memorial to the massacre that had occurred there, mourning those who had been mercilessly slaughtered by the Hora-quan.

With a sigh, he shook the thoughts from his head; there was little he could do about that now, anyway.

Instead he kept his eyes peeled, taking in as much of the city as he could while they walked back to the entrance, next to which were the garages and the strange land bound vehicles that the Wastelanders relied upon. However, one thought abruptly struck him.

"Why I am heading out with your boss so soon? I wouldn't think I would merit such an 'honor.'" He asked.

"Your performance in the battle arena the other day." Kleiver said, before shaking his head. "I'll admit, those were some pretty sweet moves you pulled, I haven't seen fighting like that in a long time."

'**_He hasn't seen anything yet.' _**Kage growled with a hint of pride towards both himself and his host, which resulted in Jak giving an inward smirk.

"Even Valthos was impressed, mate," the quartermaster continued, oblivious to the conversation taking place in the dark elf's mind, "and believe you me, that's something that doesn't happen very often, and its probably why you're coming with us, cause we might need your 'talents.'"

"You expecting trouble then?" Jak inquired as he finished off his meal.

"Out in the Wasteland, you always need to expect trouble." Seth remarked, not bothering to look back over his shoulder. "It's teeming with Marauders, Metal Heads, and those sandstorms we have aren't anything to sneeze at either."

"You have Metal Heads out here?" Daxter said with a gulp.

"The bigger ones like the Torresques, Guardians, and Metapedes." Kleiver replied. "They can put up with the heat and the dehydration longer than the other species, and they give us trouble from time to time."

"Eeep." the smallest member of the group said.

Jak couldn't exactly blame his diminutive partner for being so worried, as the three aforementioned subspecies were about as dangerous as living beings got on this world. They had only encountered Metapedes once before, and even then it had been just one, though the chase that followed had been hair raising enough that neither had a desire for a repeat of it.

Torresques were the largest 'normal' species of the Hora-quan. The dinosaur styled Metal Heads being on height with a six story building even when one did not count the massive howitzer strapped to their backs, and while Jak had never had to tango with one of them, they'd had a field day trying to keep the Shield Wall up with dozens of them bombarding the crap out of it. Not to mention the stories that Torn and Jinx had told them of the slaying entire platoons of elven troops with single well placed shots.

Guardians were much the same, though they resembled giant scarab beetles and could fly, and used a Dark Eco 'breath weapon' to wreak havoc from above. Fortunately, while heavily armored, they couldn't maneuver very quickly, and a concentrated assault from a group of Hellcat cruisers would send one to Death's domain rather swiftly. Unfortunately, no such gunships were available out here.

Jak merely prayed they didn't run into any of them, as while he was certain that he and Kage could take a few, he wasn't certain how many it would take before he and his guardian devil were overpowered, and if there was one thing he'd learned about the Metal Heads, it was that they loved to travel in packs.

The dark elf shook his head abruptly, clearing his mind as they made their way towards the Spargus City gates, and the garages located there

* * *

"So, tell me," Jak began, looking over the rather large collection of vehicles they had going here, "what exactly powers these things and why do you keep em on the ground?" 

"Ever see what a heap of sand does to a repulsor lift?" was the reply he got from Seth as the scout readied his bike.

"No," the dark elf said with a shake of his head.

"Well, let's just say that it ain't pretty." Kleiver said from somewhere in the back, throwing his two credits in. "These dune buggies might not be as fast or as flashy as those zoomers you blokes have over in Haven, but they're better suited for desert environments."

"And what about your juice?" Daxter enquired, raising and eyebrow. "Cause these motors don't look like any Eco processors that I've ever seen."

"That would be because they don't run off Eco, it's too hard to get out here." the larger Wastelander replied.

"Then what gets em moving?" the ottsel persisted, crossing his arms over his chest.

In response, Seth walked over towards one of the garage walls and pulled something down that almost looked like a periscope. The desert dwelling elf then motioned for Jak and his compadre to come over and look through it. Uncertain of exactly what he would find the Ascended Channeler peeked through, and what he saw surprised him.

It was some sort of underground…animal farm, or something of the like. Somehow, these Wastelanders had managed to get their hands of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Hip-Hogs, and they were being attended to by people he assumed were captured Marauders, if the catwalks filled with heavily armed guards were to be any indication of their former allegiance.

"You guys got a ranching operation going on here or something?" the dark elf asked in a confused tone as Daxter hopped up on his shoulder to get a look of his own, his face forming into a mask of disgust a moment later.

"We don't eat them." Kleiver said with a chuckle that made him look even more hideous than normal.

"Then what do you use them for?" Daxter asked, his face scrunched up as though he could smell the animals all the way up in the garage.

"Hip-hog waste gives off a high energy, explosive gas called methane," he explained with a grin, "and we've learned how to refine it and combine it with some other chemicals to make it into a more stable, liquid fuel." He said, before gesturing around. "Everything you see here, the lights, the vehicles, everything, is powered by it."

"And here I was hoping that the only smell I was going to have to put up with was 'new car fragrance number twelve.'" Daxter muttered with a shake of his head.

"And your weapons?" Jak inquired as he ignored his friend's antics, still somewhat curious about the strange guns that they carried, and had mounted on their vehicles.

In answer to his question, Seth unslung his rifle from his back, and removing the clip that held the strange ammunition, before fishing out one of the projectiles that it fired. He then tossed it to the dark elf, who snatched it out of the air with practiced ease.

"It's called a bullet." the lanky Wastelander told him. "It consists of a fine, highly refined explosive powder within the casing and the round which is made of lead." he then brought his hands up. "When you pull the trigger, the round in the firing chamber is struck from behind by a pin." He then demonstrated with his hands, smacking one into the other. "This ignites the powder which shoots the round out of the casing, and sends it right into the poor sucker you got lined up in your crosshairs."

"Interesting." Jak muttered, before throwing the round back to Seth, who quickly reloaded it.

'**_They've had to have been here a long time to have such an advanced operation going on.' _**Kage mused abruptly, breaking the silence that he had been in for so long. **_'I wonder then why we were not aware of them before now.'_**

'_Well, if Valthos' story about who and what they are is true, Haven's probably tried to wash their hands of these people.' _Jak told his guardian devil.

'**_I see.' _**the oni responded, resting his chin upon his hand as he slipped back into his thoughts and faded from view in the dark elf's mind.

Thinking about Haven City, and the people in it, drew the Ascended Channeler's sight back down to the ring that he had on his finger, and he was glad that his hood hid his face from the two Wastelanders as he ran his finger across the Precursor runes inlaid in the band, suddenly wishing that Keira was here by his side, wishing that he could stare into her emerald eyes and run his hands through her aqua colored hair, wanting nothing more than to simply hold her in his arms.

"Nice ring you got there, mate," Kleiver observed, bringing him out of his musings, "that a family heirloom or something?"

"You know, Kleiver," came a new voice, and everyone turned to see Valthos come walking in through the garage door, "somehow, the fact that you don't recognize a wedding band when you see one doesn't surprise me."

"Hey!" the large Wastelander replied, his tone one of indignity. "I could get any girl I wanted, thank you very much. They're practically fighting each other to get at me."

"In your dreams and in their nightmares, lardo." Daxter remarked cheekily.

"Watch it, you little rodent," Kleiver growled back, baring his teeth, "or you'll find yourself as the main course of me next meal!"

"You wouldn't want him." Seth said as he checked a few things over on his bike. "He's just skin and bones, Kleiv, not even worth the effort."

"I'm certain he'd be edible when buttered and filleted just right." the Aussie elf countered, eyeing the ottsel with a look that reminded him all too well of Krew.

Valthos merely shook his head and rolled his eyes, before refocusing his attention upon Jak.

"One thing does puzzle me, exile." he stated matter of factly. "Aren't you a little young to be getting hooked up with someone. I mean you're what, eighteen?"

"Almost twenty." Jak countered, glaring from underneath his hood. "And if you'd been through as much as I had in the past four years, you wouldn't be surprised about my actions."

"What do you mean?" the Sand King inquired.

"I've stared Death in the face and walked away more times than any one person has a right to." the dark elf stated, letting his alien eyes bore into the soul of the Wastelander ruler. "When you're walking the line between living and dying, you learn after a while to treasure what you have today, 'cause you know there might not be a tomorrow."

"You do have the eyes of someone who has stared the Grim Reaper in the face and walked away." Valthos concurred, matching his stare. "And I wonder what a young townie such as yourself could have been through to do that."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." the Ascended Channeler replied, turning around and walking towards the rear of the garage, where Kleiver was readying a second bike that he assumed was for him. "But let's just say it's more than you've ever had to deal with."

"You assume much, exile." Valthos said to himself, his voice laced with pain and sorrow.

The Sand King closed his eyes for a brief moment, before heading over to the Slam Dozer, mounting up and getting the massive vehicle ready while a few more Wastelanders came in and readied a containment transport for the leaper lizards.

* * *

They arrived at their destination about an hour later, which the dark elf was surprised to see was apparently the ruins of some sort of town. Instantly, Jak realized why the creatures would congregate here, as the thick stone walls of the old structures would provide ideal protection against the razor winds of the desert, and they would also provide food, as smaller animals would doubtless reside here for the same reasons. 

"What is this place?" asked Seth, looking over to the lanky Wastelander.

"It used to be our home before the Marauders showed up and started causing trouble." he replied somberly. "After that, we had to find a more defensible location to reside in, because as you can see, this place doesn't even have a wall to keep the Metal Heads out."

"Who exactly are the Marauders?" the dark elf inquired as he stared out over the ruins.

"They were once part of us," Seth responded bitterly, shaking his head and closing his eyes. "But about fifty years ago, they split off from us, and they've been giving us grief ever since."

"I noticed you'd made slaves out of a few of them." Jak said abruptly, a very noticeable amount of distaste in his voice.

"You wouldn't think like that if you'd seen what they'd done to the Wastelanders that they captured." Seth shot back, anger in his tone. "The Marauders' are scum, they're little more than beasts, and their leader's even worse."

"And you haven't tried to wipe them out yet because…" Daxter asked, motioning for the Wastelander to continue.

"Because they outnumber us nearly four to one." he growled. "And for his barbaric ways, Scourge is still cunning. Their stronghold is built out on an island in the middle of an oasis about twenty miles from here, and we don't have a means to get past the drawbridges they've got."

"So you basically just sit here and let them attack you whenever they want?" Jak replied incredulously, arching an unseen eyebrow.

"They've attacked us more times than I'd care to recall." Seth answered with a nod. "But we've managed to turn em back every time." He then pulled out his gun, which Jak had learned was a semi automatic sniper rifle, a 'PSG-1' as it had been termed. "I've personally managed to send about eight of the bastards straight to hell." He replied with a smile, before bringing the rifle up and looking down the scope.

Behind them, the Slam Dozer and the transport vehicle were just starting to pull up, having finally caught up with the two scouting bikes, which Jak had learned were officially named 'Sidewinders,' after a type of desert viper that could move rapidly over the dunes. As soon as the command vehicle came to a stop, Valthos hopped off while Kleiver remained behind in the swiveling gun turret, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of trouble, Marauder or otherwise.

"What do you see, Seth?" the Wastelander ruler inquired.

"The usual, chief," he replied, not looking away from his scope, "there're tracks down there, by the looks of it, we could have as many as twenty leaper lizards running around the ruins."

"Excellent." Valthos remarked, an unseen grin gracing his face as he pulled out a comm. unit. "Everyone get into positions."

A few more light vehicles raced out of the back of the massive transport vehicle, heading out and circling around the ruined town until they were covering every likely exit. The plan was simple; Jak and Seth would head down into the place as their bikes were more maneuverable. The noise would spook the leapers out of hiding and get them on the run. From there, they would herd them towards the outer regions of the ruins, where the other Wastelanders would nail them with tranquilizer darts, which were filled with a paralyzing agent that had been made from the juice of one of the kinds of cactuses found out in the desert.

"You ready for this?" Seth inquired, looking to both Jak and Daxter.

In response, both of them simply grinned. An instant later, they revved up their Sidewinders, and shot down towards the ruins, their engines screaming and echoing off the buildings, sending the leapers out into the streets with frightened shrieks.

* * *

The operation was executed smoothly, and capturing the leapers, about eighteen in all, had taken no more than half an hour. During that time period, Jak had been amazed by the things he had seen some of the Wastelander dune buggies do when one of them managed to get past the ring of sentries. From the nitro jet boosters to one strange green one that had the ability to leap a good thirty feet into the air, they were unbelievable. Keira would have had the time of her life taking these vehicles apart and tinkering with them. 

The thought of his soul mate brought another wave of pain to his heart, and he visibly flinched. He sighed wearily, and Daxter, carefully resting upon the armor pauldron of his right shoulder, knew instantly what was on his friend's mind.

"Don't worry, old buddy," he said, giving the Ascended Channeler a comforting pat, "she'll be just fine, you wait and see. After all, don't forget what she did to those Metal Heads in Haven Forrest."

"How could I forget that?" the dark elf responded with a bittersweet smile.

Through thick and thin, she'd been there for him, had never given up on him, even when he had given up on himself. In the end, that had proven to be his salvation, when she had defended him in the Tomb of Mar, fighting off a literal manifestation of his hatred, and with Daxter's aid, helped him to find his balance.

"You did good today, exile."

Shaken out of his thoughts and reminiscing, Jak turned to see Valthos staring at him, a look of respect in his eyes.

"You can drive one of those exceptionally well." he remarked.

"I was a part time racer back in Haven." the dark elf responded. "Being pumped full of Dark Eco did give me a few advantages, and enhanced reflexes was one of them."

"Tell me more about these…injections." Valthos asked, his tone filled with curiosity.

He looked up at Daxter, who simply shrugged, and Jak thought it over for a moment or two, before deciding that it was perhaps best to tell his story to the Sand King.

"I'd just come back to Haven City after…a long time." He began, the memories of everything flashing through his mind. "Praxis had been tipped off by someone about what I was, and he had his men pick me up." He then looked the cloaked elf in the eyes once more. "He pumped me and about a hundred and eighty other test subjects full of the stuff, trying to turn us into bio weapons that he could use to turn the tide in the war with the Metal Heads. I was the only one to survive, thanks to my…heritage, if you know what I mean."

"And I thought that murder was the worst of his crimes." Valthos growled. "The world is better off now that he's in hell!"

"Do you even have any idea how he died?" the dark elf replied incredulously, though he was somewhat curious as to how news of the event might have reached the Wastelander's ears.

"No, and I don't particularly care!" Was the snarled reply.

"He took a Cloaker blade meant for his daughter." Jak finished.

"So, it seems as though there was a small shred of nobility left in him." The Sand King remarked with a sarcastic clapping of his hands.

"There was more than a shred." the Ascended Channeler responded. "He died trying to save people's lives, which was what he'd been trying to do from the beginning."

"Are you defending his actions?" Valthos inquired, his tone icy and venomous.

"Don't start that stuff with me, Valthos." Jak responded with a completely humorless grin. "I suffered a lot at Praxis' hands. I lost my family, my home, and my humanity. But the whole time that he was doing those things, he thought that he was doing it for the greater good." Jak paused, remembering his mother's smiling face briefly. "In the end, he realized his error, and he died trying to make up for it."

"Do you really think redemption for such atrocities is possible?" the cloaked elf replied with disbelief.

"I'd like to think so." Jak said with a nod. "I won't go into all the details, but I had a little spiritual trial a few months back, and I saw within myself the possibility to become worse than Praxis ever was, and I know how easy it is to start down that path. I also know it's not the easiest thing in the world to pull yourself out of, so I commend him for that."

Valthos remained silent, his eyes boring into the dark elf, before muttering something unintelligible under his breath and trudging away.

Or rather, he started to when gunfire suddenly split the air, coming from the other side of a large sand dune.

In an instant, both elves were dashing up the dune, trying to see what was going on. They crested the dune a few seconds later, and let out gasps as a roar split the air.

Seth had headed out a few minutes earlier to check something out, and it seems as if he'd found what he'd been looking for. Unfortunately, what he'd found had turned out to be a trio of Torresque Metal Heads, all of which were currently chasing after him, their huge legs and wide feet helping them to keep up with the Wastelander's scouting bike.

One of them lunged downward, its massive jaws agape in an attempt to finish Seth off. However, the Wastelander saw the shadow that came over him, and swerved off to one side, narrowly avoiding the attack as the beast's maw clamped shut. Another one then did something that seemed impossible given its size: it leaped in front of his new path, coming down hard with an earth shaking thud. It tried to swipe him with its tail, only to find that he was once again able to evade.

Skillful though he was, both elves were quick to realize that Seth was in deep trouble, as the Sidewinder was only equipped with a pair of forward facing machine guns, which lacked the armor penetrating capacity necessary to tear through the thick plate-like hides that these beasts had. Thus, Valthos was swift to order the other Wastelanders into attack positions, all the while scrambling back towards his own vehicle, knowing that the Slam Dozer's heavy weapons would be able to bring the behemoths down. However, as Jak saw them mobilizing, he shook his head.

'**_They won't reach him in time.' _**Kage observed, a snarl upon his demonic visage.

'_Looks like I'm going to have to turn you loose a little sooner than I thought.' _Jak concurred as his eyes flashed red and Dark Eco lightning coursed over his body.

Daxter, knowing what that meant, leapt off his friend's arm and scrambled backwards, knowing that the Angel of Death was coming.

Jak screamed in agony as a sphere of absolute darkness enveloped him. As the cry reached the ears of the Wastelanders, they turned and stared, their eyes wide with a rarity among them: fear. The cries became roars, and an instant later, the sphere vanished, revealing Kage, in all his ferocity.

The oni reared up to his full height, and let out a feral battle scream a moment later. It echoed through the dunes, so loud and powerful that even the Metal Heads heard it, and stopped their pursuit of Seth to look up and see what made the racket.

What they saw was a very irate Dark Eco demon taking to the air and drawing a transformed Kitetsu from the scabbard on its back, its blade dark as night and the runes glowing vibrantly. For the moment, they forgot about the Wastelander, as they recognize the being that had destroyed their leader, and with their own battle cries, rushed at the oni, launching a few howitzer shots for good measure.

Kage blasted forward as well, the strange, continuous after-image following him as it always did. His wings pumping, the Dark Eco demon easily evaded the blasts of Dark Eco, not that they would have really harmed him in the first place, and reached his adversaries in a matter of seconds. He then dove underneath the claws of the first Torresque, summoning a shadow blade and swinging both it and Kitetsu back around as he passed. The Precursor forged blade and its compatriot proved to be more than a match for the armored hide of the monstrous Hora-quan, and it screamed in agony as two of its fingers became separated form the rest of its hand.

Now very much infuriated, and rightfully so, the Metal Head whipped around at a speed that was startling considering its bulk, lashing out with a closed up fist. Kage merely folded up his wings, and let gravity take its course, dropping him safely beneath the range of the attack. The oni then shot forward, balling himself up as he reached the behemoth's chest and flipping forward, bringing both weapons down at forty five degree angles at his foe. Again, they pierced the creature's armor and bit deep into its flesh, going so far as to damage its ribcage to a slight degree.

From there, it was relatively simply to take advantage of the creature's rage and fly down to its stomach region, where the weapons tore into its guts as the Dark Eco demon shot across its underbelly at fantastic speed. This resulted in a disembowelment of a truly grand scale, and watching from their position, the Wastelanders knew that the buzzards would be eating well today.

As the first of the monsters fell to the ground, sending sand and dust flying into the air as it did so, Seth finally made it back to the rest of his comrades, and spun his bike around, panting heavily and looking back as Kage flew up and away from the remaining two Torresques.

"Do you think we should help him?" he inquired, looking over to Valthos, whose eyes suddenly widened.

The lanky Wastelander glanced back towards the conflict to see what it was that was grabbing the attention of his leader, and his own eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

Kage hovered in the air, Kitetsu floating at his side. Gripped in both of his hands and in the finger like extensions on the top of his wings, were spheres of Channeled Dark Eco. With a battle cry, the oni sent all four of them streaking in at one of the enormous Metal Heads. They connected a second later, two on the chest, and two more plowing right into its head. The massive Torresque screamed in agony, reeling backwards and bringing its hands up to its ruined and now blinded face. As it did so, the oni landed, and sheathed Kitetsu, before letting dark energy crackle and pulse over his hands.

He brought his hands together, one on top of the other, his palms thrust outward, before unleashing the pent up shadow flare, as they had decided to call it. The attack, a beam shaped blast of Channeled Dark Eco, smashed into the chest of the Metal Head, nearly ripping it apart, so great was the subsequent explosion.

"He seems to have everything under control." Valthos remarked, shaking his head slightly.

The attack left a sole remaining Hora-quan to be dealt with. Despite their massive size, the Torresques were not the mindless Grunts and Drones that made up the cannon fodder of the Metal Head army, and this one was smart enough to realize that charging in blindly, trying to swat this thing as if it were some sort of large fly, would be a fast track to getting itself killed.

And so it remained where it was, its large eyes staring at its considerably smaller adversary, as it tried to think of some way to bring Kage down. Thus far, the Dark Eco demon had proven itself to be more than capable of dodging anything that might be thrown at it and it honestly couldn't think of anything that it could use to try and tip the odds in its favor. Thus, it decided that a strategic withdrawal from the immediate area would probably be in its best interest.

Unfortunately, the massive Metal Head made its first and last mistake then: it turned tail to run, presenting Kage with a juicy target that would not be capable of firing back. Not helping it was the fact that the honor bound devil had never forgotten what had happened to Sandover, the innocents that had been slaughtered by the Torresque's fellows. Thus, the oni was not about to let even one of these things flee from it.

He shot forward, his wings pumping rapidly, and landed upon the massive howitzer built into the Hora-quan's back, letting his clawed and very much prehensile feet latch onto the metal of the gun. Then, with rather astounding speed, Kage proceeded to dash up the length of the cannon, running all the way to the end and leaping off of the barrel, coming down upon the back of the Torresque's head, and letting his feet latch onto it as well. The creature, sensing its doom, roared once again, and made a futile attempt to shake the oni loose from his perch. However, though he was bucked about to a rather harsh degree, Kage stood firm, and with a growl of his own, thrust both katanas down sideways up to their hilts, the edges of the blades facing inward to where they were positioned rather like a pair of overgrown scissors.

"Death comes for you!" He snarled in his distorted voice, before yanking on both of the handles, causing the four and a half foot long weapons to tear into the beast's spine, and sever the brain stem from the rest of the body.

The Torresque's head shot up suddenly, and it opened its mouth to scream, but could find no air, and its world went dark as the ground rushed up to greet it.

The Dark Eco demon detached himself and took to the air just before the behemoth hit the desert sands, creating a small storm of whirling particles and dust. Kage looked out over his handwork, before letting out a small snort of contempt.

'_Nice job.' _Jak remarked, staring at the corpses as best he could and admiring the work his alter ego had done in a few short minutes.

'**_They were hardly a challenge.' _**Kage remarked mentally, dispelling the shadow blade in his left hand and stabbing the physical twin into the corpse, letting it drain the Dark Eco from within before he sheathed it.

'_After Kor, I'm not really sure what we could consider a challenge.' _the dark elf shot back with a chuckle.

'**_True enough, my friend,' _**Kage responded with a small hint of a smile, **_'I only fear what the Wastelanders will think now that you have revealed me.'_**

'_Knowing how Valthos values strength above all else, he'll probably consider this a plus.' _Jak replied in a comforting tone of voice.

With that, the both of them fell silent, and the oni jetted over to where the Wastelanders and Daxter stood, awe written upon the faces of the former, a knowing smirk upon the latter.

The Dark Eco demon landed gracefully upon the sand, his hellfire eyes looking down upon the desert dwelling elves as he folded his wings around himself like a cloak. Several of them, Kleiver and Seth included, exchanged uneasy glances amongst themselves, and a few even went so far as to take an involuntary step away from the oni. However, Valthos stood his ground, and matched the creature stare for stare.

"You continue to amaze us, exile." He remarked, crossing his arms and looking the demon over.

"And now you know why getting on my host's bad side is such an unwise idea." Kage said, his distorted voice echoing amongst them, getting him a bemused look from the Sand King. "Let those corpses be a warning to you, a foreshadowing of what your fate will be should you attempt to betray him…"

"Your host?" Valthos inquired, his tone full of confusion.

"I am not quite the same being as Jak." the oni explained, cocking his head slightly to one side. "Merely a separate consciousness spawned from him, the details surrounding which I shall not go into."

"Awfully eloquent for something that just turned a trio of Torresques into mince meat." Kleiver observed from up in the gun turret of the Slam Dozer, which earned him a glance from the creature.

"Make no mistake," Kage replied, a fanged smile playing upon the edges of his muzzle, "I am a creature breed for combat and made for war, but I am not some mindless killing machine. Nor are either of us tools to be cast aside once you no longer have a use for us."

"You don't have to worry about that…" Valthos replied, before trailing off.

"Kage." the creature responded, correctly guessing that what the Wastelander ruler had been looking for was a name.

"Kage," he continued, "loyalty to ones comrades is something we also value highly out here, and betrayal is a crime that the perpetrator pays dearly for, I can assure you."

The Dark Eco demon's remained silent for a few moments, opting to lean down into the Sand King's face, letting the cloaked elf watch his own covered visage be reflected back at him from the oni's slitted, crimson eyes.

"We shall see." Kage growled.

He stepped back, body shrinking back into his host's, pulling the hood over his face as he did. He turned and walked toward where the vehicle he had driven over in had been hastily parked

"If that's all?" Jak called from there without turning to face the group.

"I _told_ you not to piss him off," Daxter commented to Valthos as he hopped off the rock he'd been using as a perch of sorts and made his way after his friend.

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Okay, Kage was unleashed, Metal Heads were destroyed, and another chapter was finished (prays the chapter didn't stink as badly as he thought). I hope you liked this one, and please let me know of any ideas you may have. Constructive criticisms, comments, flames, and any other form of input is welcome and very much appreciated. 

So have a great week, and I'll see you for the next chapter, where Seem will be properly introduced, and Tarath will also re-enter the picture.


	5. Darkness Guides Us

Greetings to you, one and all. Its that time of the week again, and here's your update, delivered as promised. Not a whole lot going on down here that I can think of, aside from the fact that I am now really enjoying Battle Front II. Call me insane or whatever, but I find few things more enjoyable than engaging in "Imperial Diplomacy" on Naboo as a Dark Trooper (a cybernetically enhanced clone of Jango Fett), coming down out of a jetpack jump, and unleashing and Arc Caster shot on about a dozen soldiers, right before capping a Jedi in the head and leaving the good Queen a present in the form of a thermal detonator…

But, my bloodlust for Star Wars aside, to those of you who reviewed.

**MariaShadow- **Hehe, glad you liked the Daxter angst. As for Seem, let's say her bigotry will eventually get her very close to our little honor bound demon, shall we? I am also happy that you enjoyed the melding of normal tech, as the vehicles did seem to use bullets, rather than energy bursts.

**Exardas- **There will be a few solo missions, but most of them will have other Wastelanders running around, and those first few missions were a tad stupid, and its been done death in RPGs…Hope to see more of your stories soon, and I hope you like the chapter.

**Philoworm- **Pleased to hear that you enjoyed it, though it will be a few chapters before we see Keira get her powers, and I'm still trying to figure out how to give her her own Precursor weapon/armor as far as timeline in the story. Hope you like this one, and please let me know of any ideas you may have.

**Saiorse- **Thanks for the vote of confidence, and I am happy to hear that you liked my blending of modern tech with the futuristic stuff. Will try to keep the work as good as I possibly can, and let me know if I start to slip.

**Wizard Surreal- **Yeah, that about summed up the scene that I saw (smile). Yeah, the others were a bit surprised to see what it was they saw. As for the Light Powers, Jak will not be receiving any, that honor will instead go to Keira, who will joining Jak and Daxter out in the Wasteland after she gets them, as things will be going straight to Hell in a hand basket back in haven.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Yeah, it was a sight, and there likely will be some rumors/tales circulating now, events such as that tend to do those sort of things. Hope you like the chapter.

**Evil Manic- **Glad to know that I didn't bore you with the history lesson, as the next chapter is going to have about five pages worth of that sort of thing… Not sure about the tank idea, though it would seem logical for the Marauders to have a type of turret style defense similar to that huge cannon Kleiver's always using…

**GoodMourningBeautiful2005- ** Glad that you liked the chapter, and I hope that this one pleases you as well, as a trip to the gates of hell is in store for our heroes…

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Glad that the picture made you all warm and fuzzy, and I am so happy that N.D. got their act together. As for Kage, expect to see more of him from now on, as the Wasteland will not soon forget the presence of the Dark Eco Demon. (insert insane cackling) And Keira will join him out there in a few chapters, shortly after she starts to get her abilities.

**jaklover123- **Well, if it's any comfort to you, I am 5' 11. This effectively makes me the shortest male member of my family on both sides (got a cousin on each side that's 6' 6). Glad you liked Kage's reappearance, and I hope that I continue to please.

**Meowen- **Glad that you liked the chapter, and I hope that this one pleases you just as much, even if there isn't much action in it.

**Air of Mystery- **Sorry about that, but the only thing Kleiver will possess of Krew is the glare. Don't worry though, he will not be the reincarnation of that blob, and will have (I hope) a depth to him in this story that hasn't been shown before. Not sure what you meant about the P.S., but if it's anything to do with the destruction of the MS blight, let me know, as Kage is eager to take them out, and I haven't been able to work my evocation magic for a while, so I'm dying to fireball something…

**Aerofae- **Glad that you liked the fight scene, and expect to see many more coming in the future chapters.

**The White Dwarf- **Glad you liked the depth that has gone into Dax and the rest of the story, but sadly, I do not think I will be bringing it into Jak-X, as I cannot write racing scenes very well, though I am trying to think up some sort of AU medieval type story.

**Farr2rich- **Glad you enjoyed the fight scene, and that wasn't as perverted as Daxter's been in the past. Don't know the lines from the ending, as some pictures is all that I've seen, but you will like it, trust me. Hope to see your own story updated soon, and best of luck to you. (for the record, the story is not crap, its waaaayyyyyy better than my first attempts were, trust me on that)

**SRHumphrey727- **Had a rather stressful week actually, got teacher's examing me like the world's coming to an end --; Ahhh well, life goes on. Hope you like the chapter, and let me know what you think if you do, or what could be improved if you don't.

**exodus12188- **Truth be told, I never really used any vehicles other than the ones that I was given, so I don't know what there is to upgrade. As for the howitzers, I don't think so, as the elves would have a time hauling em back to Haven, and they really don't even know how they're fired in the first place. As for you other question, yeah, there will be more than one of the Juggernaughts participating in the final showdown, as well as the grand total of about 12000 odd Precursors and God only knows how many elves scraping it out with each other…

**Crazed Demon- **Glad that you liked the last chapter, and I hope that I continue to please. (bows)

**YamiTenshi14- **Thank you for the vote of confidence, and I shall try to take that information to heart. As for the story, I hope that I continue to improve on it, but I am always afraid of becoming overconfident, if you know what I mean…Anyways, I hope you like this chapter, and if you have any ideas, please let me know, thanks. (bows)

**animedragongirl- **Thanks for putting up with all the errors in the chapter, and I really enjoyed the Halloween special, and thanks for letting Errol have it, heheehe. Should have the next one to you soon, and its really long, so I hope you have stocked up on red ink.

**Ali O- **Glad you liked Keira ripping Veger apart, and expect it to happen at least once more. I'll try to stop apologizing for the quality of the story, and thank you for having faith in my abilities. That said, I hope you like this chapter.

**Beloved Rose- **Thanks for the advice on Tarath, I tried a bit of it in this chapter, could you let me know how I did? As for Veger Bashing, I think that Jak will be the next one to do it (right after he has his little meeting with Seem, and I think I know just what to do to the good count (insert insane cackling)) Thanks for the vote of confidence to, and I'll try to take it to heart.

**gamehead64- **No, don't think Damas saw that coming, and I haven't decided what will come of it, aside from Jak receiving much more respect as a result. (looks up at space, sees construction, and hurriedly dials up the rebels on his phone)

**Moon-Angel-Eyes- **Glad you like what I did to Damas, and I hope that I continue to please. As for Veger, he will probably survive, though rest assured that may not be a blessing, considering what I am gong to have in store for him. Hope you like this one too, and let me know if there's anything you'd like to see happen.

To those of you who read but did not review, I hope that you have found this story to your liking thus far, and please don't hesitate to throw your two cents in if you see something that could be improved.

Lawyers: I no own, so leave me be!

On another note, this is the chapter where Jak changes his hair, and the style was one created by Wennichelle, an artist from DA, who has graciously given me permission to use it, for which I am quite grateful. If you want to check the style out, head hear to see it http/ www. deviantart. Com /view/ 22553474/

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Darkness Guides Us

His wings spread wide to catch the thermal currents drifting up from the desert some four thousand feet below, Kage glided towards their destination: a large volcano that dominated the center of the Wasteland. Daxter was clutching his shoulder, the ottsel's face buried into the oni's skin, as he held on for dear life.

About two and a half weeks had passed since their arrival at Spargus, and for the most part they had been accepted, especially after tales of what his host had done had begun to circulate amongst the Spargian populace. As for his host, well, Jak was slowly becoming more at ease out in this place. The dark elf really wasn't certain why, but he thought that somehow, in a distant way, the Wastelanders reminded him a lot of where he had grown up. Sure, the environments were about as close to polar opposites as one could get, and the rough talking residents of the place weren't exactly the villagers that he'd known as a child. But nonetheless, the way in which they worked together to get their jobs done, they way that they were able to make do and be content with what little they could scrap out of this gods forsaken desert had made his host slightly nostalgic.

Granted, he hadn't initially been too thrilled about the whole Marauder enslavement deal, but after Valthos had showed him what was left of a few Wastelanders that they had captured, tortured to death, and then left out in the desert to rot, he'd quickly lost any sympathy he might have had for them.

The Ascended Channeler had even gone so far as to style his hair after them to a degree. He hadn't gotten it cut since he'd busted out of prison more than a year ago, and it had been starting to bug him. So, about three days ago, he'd finally gone and done something about it. Now, rather than being the wild, unkempt manner that it had been before, he'd gotten it styled to where it was in dreadlocks similar to how Torn would have worn his, except for the small bands of leaper lizard hide that held it together, and the fact that they all came together in a tethered up pony tail that was just past his shoulders, not counting the foremost two of them, which hung down either side of his face, along with a few strands that manage to escape confinement.

Still, however semi-comfortable his host might have been while he was in Spargus, that didn't change the fact that Haven was still in the throes of war, and his people were shedding their blood every day while he was out here. However, he was exiled on pain of death, and he had little doubt that if he tried to return, further infighting would erupt, and that wouldn't solve anything.

Both of them only prayed that the Freedom Guard was able to make it without them for the time being, and that Keira and the rest remained safe, despite everything.

That was another thing that was constantly eating at Jak, and Kage knew it, no matter how well the dark elf tried to hide it. The Dark Eco demon could relate somewhat to the longing that his host felt for his soul mate, as he cared for her as well. However, the oni's love for the beautiful elf was less along the lines of a soul mate or lover, and more closely related to the feelings one would associate with that of a guardian or an elder brother.

However, in circumstances such as this, he still felt the pain sharply, and had silently vowed that come hell or high-water, he would see his host and Keira back together, and the Heavens have mercy upon the unfortunate soul stupid enough to try to bring a premature end to their reunion.

He also couldn't help but feel a little guilty over the fact that it was, despite Jak's many assurances that it was not, his fault that they were out here.

And even in this place, there were those who distrusted him because of a genetic quirk that his host had not asked to be born with. Most notable among those was Seem, the strange elf that had watched their performance in the arena. As luck would have it, she was head of a branch of monks that had dedicated themselves to finding out the mysteries of the Precursors and the artifacts that they had left behind. However, while she had conveyed that she and her order knew much about the supposedly long gone Ancients, she was not about to divulge that to them, and a frown made its way over his face as he thought back to the meeting that he had been a silent witness to.

* * *

His hood up to shield his face from the burning sun, the dark elf walked through the desert city, Daxter at his heels, as he had found out the hard way that ferrosteel, unlike electro-mesh, does indeed become hot after extended exposure to ultraviolet radiation. Jak had been sparring against himself in the then deserted battle arena, when something had come streaking down from the sky like a blazing meteorite, and had impacted a second later with enough force to rattle the entire city.

He'd approached the area some time later, knowing that the Wastelanders would mob the area initially, thus making observation of any kind difficult at best.

Now though, a few hours later, the area that the thing had come down in was deserted except for the occasional odd onlooker, and some elves that Jak could not recall having seen before. He might have overlooked them, but he felt certain that he would have remembered clothing as odd as the kind that they were dressed in.

"Whoa," Daxter remarked, pointing them out, as if they weren't obvious enough. "Check out these funny dudes." The ottsel then broke into a fit of laughter, barely managing to get his next verbal jab at them out. "Nice threads, guys, I didn't know that rubber was back in."

'**_He has a bit of a point,' _**Kage conceded, a look of bafflement upon his face, **_'those cannot possibly be comfortable in this environment.'_**

'_Must be part of their code or something.' _Jak responded with a mental shrug, as the leader turned around.

It was the same elf that had seen them in the arena, and she glared down at the furry

rodent with a clear amount of irritation in her crimson eyes.

"So what's all the excitement about?" the Ottsel inquired, raising an eyebrow, apparently oblivious to her annoyance, or perhaps merely choosing to ignore it.

"It is none of your concern, animal." she snapped in a raspy voice that sounded as if she could have used a long draught of water.

"Look, coloring book," Daxter shot back, "we've had a rough past few days, so don't push it."

The girl ignored him, though, and opted to focus her attention upon the dark elf standing in front of her instead. Her eyes narrowed again, this time literally blazing with hostility.

"The arena shows all, exile." she spat. "Darkness consumes your eyes."

In response to her remark, the Ascended Channeler threw his hood back, making his glowing, reptilian orbs visible to everyone present.

"Really?" he said in an overly sarcastic tone of voice. "What was your first clue?"

"It will consume you, and lead to your destruction," she then gestured to the strange object behind her, "just as the Precursors destroyed themselves!"

"That doesn't look like any Precursor crap we've ever seen before." Daxter remarked, crossing his arms and giving the monk a strange look.

"These artifacts are abominations," the girl remarked as she turned around, "and another one fell near the great volcano. A party of my monks was sent out to investigate, but neither they nor their escort returned." She shook her head abruptly. "Ill tidings sing on the wind, and I fear that the end of this world as we know it is at hand."

"I think you might have been out in the blazing sun just a little too long." Daxter muttered while shaking his head.

'**_I think he is premature in his assumption, there is something about all of this that doesn't seem right.' _**Kage rumbled inside of Jak's head, stroking his chin and flapping his wings slightly.

'_I hear you.' _The dark elf responded. _'My sixth sense is practically screaming right now.'_

'**_Heh,' _**the oni snorted, **_'I know, it's just about making me deaf.'_**

'_Was that supposed to be a joke?' _Jak inquired.

'**_More or less.' _**The Dark Eco demon replied with a shrug.

'_Treading new ground every day, huh?'_ the Ascended Channeler mentally remarked, shaking his head in amazement as another one of the strange monks headed over, bowing before the leader.

"Lady Seem," the other monk said with a bow, "we believe that we have discovered something."

"Show me." Seem commanded, and her fellow made haste to comply.

His curiosity getting the better of him, Jak followed them, as did Daxter. What they saw was strange to say the least. Seem's comrades looked to have discovered what almost appeared to be a computer display screen, complete with flashing runes that were somewhat different from the Precursian script that he was thus far familiar with.

"Interesting." He muttered, scratching his chin as he peered over Seem's shoulder.

"You should leave this place, Dark One!" she snarled. "I will not stand for you skulking about in the shadows, corrupting all you come into contact with, so be gone, spawn of the hells!"

'**_Why that presumptuous little…' _**Kage snarled, baring his fangs and clenching his fists in anger. **_'She knows nothing of our plight, and yet she dares to condemn us based upon the nature of something we had no control over?'_**

"What is it with you people and assuming that darkness and evil are one in the same?" Jak responded coolly, raising an eyebrow, before motioning for her to stand back and touching various points on the command screen.

While they might not have been exactly like the runes that he was familiar with, there were many similarities, and he might just be able to figure out what was going on here.

It took him a few minutes, but he managed to crack it, and when he did, he got the surprise of his life. There was a high pitched warbling that came from the machine, and the screen started flashing.

"Hmmm," he muttered peering harder at the symbols blazing across the screen, "looks like it's communicating with something…a…Day Star?"

"Something tells me we ain't going to like what that thing's yapping with!" Daxter exclaimed, and Jak silently agreed with him.

Before any of them could make a reply however, a port opened next to the console screen, and to the surprise of everyone, spat out a Dark Eco Crystal. Seem shouted for her monks to scatter, as coming into contact with such a thing was hardly a wise move. However, heedless of her warning, Jak bent down, and snatched the Crystal, before pocketing it, smirking slightly as he did so.

The monk merely glared at him yet again, narrowing her burgundy eyes to the point where they seemed to catch fire. However, before words could be exchanged, another high pitched warbling sound emanated from behind them, and they turned just in time to watch the strange device shoot into the air, where it hovered for about two or so seconds before blowing up, lighting up the evening sky and showering the area with shrapnel.

"Must have had some sort of self destruct mechanism." The dark elf mused aloud as he crossed his arms and tapped his fingers against the upper regions of them.

"The Fallen Ones return is nigh…" Seem muttered to herself, shaking her head, causing Jak to look at her.

"You and your friends happen to know something that we don't?" he asked in an accusing tone, somewhat unnerved by the comment that she had made.

"Yeah, spill the beans!" Daxter commanded in the firmest voice that he could muster, while he leaned forward and shook his fist at the tattooed monk.

"And if I told you, would it make any difference?" she shot back. "We are not so desperate as to turn to darkness to save ourselves! So stay out of our business, as you and your masquerading friend and far from welcome here!"

The dark elf had merely glared at her, before throwing up his hood and walking away to his quarters, where both he and Daxter hoped for a good night's rest.

* * *

They had slept soundly, until Valthos had awakened them before the crack of dawn to send them out on a search and possibly rescue mission. The Sand King hadn't heard from the monks that Seem had sent to the volcano in almost three days, and it was getting to the point where he knew that something had gone wrong.

The head of the monks had initially been opposed to the idea of 'that hellspawn' being sent out to retrieve her comrades, but after a little 'convincing' on the part of the Sand King, she had coughed up the location of the area that they were heading for. Apparently, the plan had called for them to make us of an old temple, built by some long forgotten elven empire, and then glide via the thermal currents from there to the volcano about fifteen miles away, as its slopes were too steep to get up without specialized mechanical equipment that they were, to say the least, lacking.

What had puzzled Jak was that the gliders were still there, an indication that whatever had happened to the monks and their guards had occurred there in the temple, and that they had not crashed in route to their destination, or perished in the volcano. But, aside from that, they could detect nothing that might give a clue as to what fate had befallen Seem's comrades. It had then been decided that they might as well check out the crashed object, and see if they could determine anything about it, that way there might not have to head back completely empty handed.

They were nearly there, and the oni growled for Daxter to brace himself, as he had no idea how rough the landing was going to be.

He gently banked around the jagged volcanic rock that jutted out from the side, looking for a side tunnel or something that he might be able to make use of, as the oni had little desire to see if he could put up with the heat that was belched out of the fiery cone of the mountain, so say nothing of the fact that there was the possibility of Daxter being lit up like a match.

It was a few minutes later when he finally to locate a promising route, a small side channel that lave had punched through the side of the mountain but was now hollow. Reminding the rodent upon his shoulder to hold on tight, the Dark Eco demon dived down towards the channel, folding his wings in and letting his momentum carry them through into the shadows and flame of their destination, as the tunnel was not wide enough to accommodate Kage's sixteen foot wingspan.

Thankfully, the lava channel arced downward at enough of an angle that allowed them to keep moving under his speed alone, nor did it suddenly close up on them, though there were a few unnervingly tight squeezes at several points.

The closest call, though, came when the channel suddenly came to an end, opening up into a small chamber. Reacting with speed that only he could manage, Kage opened his wings and furiously back flapped, trying to slow himself down. He did manage to stop a good deal of his forward momentum, but he still realized that he was going to have a date with the rock wall at the other end. Extending his triple jointed legs, the oni braced himself for an inevitable, bone jarring impact. It happened a second later, and Daxter barely managed to hang on to the Dark Eco demon.

Nonetheless, the duo was not reduced to a smear upon the walls, and Kage was able to get them both down to the ground safely, even if the furry rodent on his shoulder had a bad case of frazzled nerves.

"That could have gone better." the oni groaned aloud, twisting his head and cracking his neck.

"Were you out for coffee or something when they were discussing landings in flight school?" Daxter snapped, his fur sticking up on end and his pupils slightly dilated.

'_Let's just figure out what in the world is so important about this thing that it merits sending an entire expedition to the gates of hell.' _Jak muttered from inside his own mind.

'**_Do you wish for me to release my hold or would you prefer that I remain manifested?' _**Kage inquired to his alter ego.

'_Best stay as you are right now,_' Jak told his inner demon,_ 'if something goes wrong, we're going to need to be able to get out of here in a hurry.'_

'**_As you wish.' _**The creature replied in a respectful tone.

Kage then looked about, and noticed several other tunnels branching off in various directions. Choosing one at random, he began to make his way down it, every sense alert at watchful for the slightest indication that something was amiss here.

* * *

Neither Jak, Kage, nor Daxter could recall later how much time they had spent down there, but they did not enjoy it to say the least. The air was superheated, so much so that it almost scorched their lungs to breathe it, which was to say nothing of the sulfurous fumes that further polluted the already nigh un-breathable atmosphere.

Much to there surprise, there had been some life down here in the form of a few tuffs of some exotic plant and a variety of strange lizard like creatures. However, while the fiends had bared their teeth and snarled at the oni's presence, they did not attempt to attack him, and having once been driven by such carnal instincts, Kage knew why as well.

They recognized a superior predator when they saw one.

Still, the trip was no cakewalk, as several ledges gave way beneath the Dark Eco demon, forcing him to take to the air, which was another exercise in pushing his limits, as flying over four thousand degree in-temperature lava was not exactly healthy for his wings.

Thus, it was with great relief when he and Daxter finally caught sight of the crashed object. It was similar to the one before, being a purple color, and vaguely resembling a flying saucer.

"What could these things be," he rumbled as he cocked his head and rubbed his chin, "that Seem would send an expedition down here to this death trap to investigate it?"

"I just want to know why in the world we seem to keep running into all of this Precursor crap." Daxter moaned, fanning himself in a futile attempt to cool off. "I mean, between that robot that Gol and Maia commandeered, the Rift Rider, and everything else in between, I've noticed that trouble follows these things like stink follows Kleiver!" he exclaimed as he clenched his fists in a dramatic way before looking to the heavens. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear the Ancients had it in for us!"

"Though misfortune seems to follow you, I assure you it is merely coincidence." Came a new voice, and both the Dark Eco demon and the Ottsel whirled about to face the source of it, who revealed himself a moment later.

Out of the shadows created by the strange device stepped an armored figure, black from his visored helmet to his two toed boots. On his right arm was a double serrated scythe blade, and his long dreadlocked hair fluttered slightly behind him in the thermal drafts.

"Tarath?" the oni exclaimed, surprised to see the Precursor in a volcanic crater of all places.

The Reaver nodded and floated up into the air, before jetting over to where he hovered some ten feet in front of the duo, who stared back at him, with Daxter being somewhat anxious as to what the Ancient might have wanted, while Kage was, as he host had done when they'd last met, trying to pierce through that visor and see the face one the other side of it.

'_What's he doing here?' _Jak mused inside of his mind, more than a little confused about this turn of events.

'**_I do not know,' _**Kage conceded with a shrug, **_'with luck, perhaps he will tell us.'_**

Praetor Tarath Shien was a mystery, and enigma that neither he nor his host had never truly been able to figure out. Though, it wasn't as if they'd had a whole lot of time to question the Precursor in the first place, as he'd been brief in his words, congratulating them, wishing Jak and Keira well, and leaving the rest with a cryptic warning about the war between Haven City and the Metal Heads being just the beginning of a larger conflict.

In short, considering that he'd admitted to being the Precursian ancestor in Jak's family tree, it had been one very bizarre little family reunion.

"I know you have questions about everything," the Reaver stated, his deep and calm voice emanating from whatever unknown visage was on the other side of that helmet, "but this is hardly the place for such a conversation." He then gestured down to the crashed object. "Let me deal with this and I will show you to a place where we can talk."

Kage nodded silently, while the black armored Ancient turned around to face the mysterious artifact. He then compacted himself, doing what looked almost like a mid air squat, and Dark Eco began to crackle over his armor. Unseen to the duo standing behind him, his eyes flashed a bright, blood crimson color behind the mirrored visor of his helmet, and he suddenly focused his power into his palms, forming a large sphere of dark energy. With a feral yell, he cocked his left arm back, before slamming his fist into the energy ball.

The sphere sailed towards its target, impacting upon it and exploding in a dazzling combination of red, orange, black and purple, and sending bits and pieces of the object raining down into the magma below.

That deed accomplished, the Reaver motioned for them to follow him, before jetting out, heading for the far side of the volcano's crater.

Kage looked down at Daxter, who groaned and covered his eyes, muttering a multitude of prayers as the oni picked him up and spread his wings, before following the Praetor.

* * *

The trip across took about five minutes, and the tailing party were both sweating rivers by the time they were finally standing upon a ledge on the far side. Tarath had obviously already landed, was apparently fiddling with something. Rearing up slightly to where he could see over the Dark Precursor's shoulder, Kage saw it to be some sort of control panel.

Thus, he and his host were able to quickly put two and two together when a rumbling shook the area, though Daxter gulped and looked upward, as if expecting large boulders to suddenly come tumbling down on his head. Much to his relief, all that happened was for part of the rocky walls to suddenly split apart, revealing a long tunnel that trailed off into darkness for so long that not even Kage's enhanced vision could see the end of it.

"This way." Tarath said, walking into the artificial cavern.

The two of them followed him as he had instructed, though the Dark Eco demon, in a silent conference with his host, decided that now was a good time for him to return control to Jak, and there was a slight groan that echoed through the chamber as he did so, which could be heard above the doors closing behind them.

Tarath halted for a brief moment, remembering Mar talking about how uncomfortable the transitions between forms was, and his own knowledge, though it was dulled by time, of when he would transform.

Thankfully hidden behind his battle gear, the Precursor warrior's face became a mask of sorrow, as he was forced to yet again be reminded of the mere shell that he was now, unable to feel, to breathe, to do anything that most normal beings could. He silently chuckled in a bitter manner, never thinking that pain would be something that he would long for one day, if for no other purpose than to simply be able to feel something, anything, again.

Oh sure, the cybernetic components that made up approximately eighty five percent of his body registered damage, and sent signals to his partially reconstructed brain, which he was able to understand. But, that was simply the knowledge that he was being hurt by something, he didn't actually feel the sensation.

He shook his head abruptly, and realized that his descendent behind him, and the anomaly both lacked the ability to see as he did for the moment, and he was quick to rectify that problem.

"Lights." He said, his tone neutral.

Immediately, the corridor became illuminated banishing the shadows and making everything visible to the two behind him. What truly astounded them, though, was not merely the voice activated visual aids, but rather, that they could not be seen, so to speak. There were no incandescent or fluorescent light bulbs that could be seen, it was almost as if the hallway itself had suddenly started to glow. However, as Jak was quick to remind himself, that considering who they were dealing with here, that was a very good possibility.

After all, the early elves had not worshiped the Ancients as if they were gods for no particular reason.

They continued on in silence for a few minutes, until they reached what appeared to be some sort of lift. At least, that's what the duo assumed that it was. However, while the vertical tunnel it might have had, that was the only thing it possessed that made it similar to the ones that he'd used, as rather than a metal platform, the whole thing seemed to be made of some sort of fluctuating 'light disc.'

Nevertheless, Tarath walked out upon it, revealing that it was as sturdy as anything made of a more traditional material. The black armored Precursor turned around to face the two of them, and Jak stepped up on the lift. However, while the dark elf might have done so readily enough, Daxter was a tad more hesitant, and carefully placed his foot upon the elevator, as if expecting himself to suddenly plunge through the moment he put his weight upon it. However, after testing it a few times, the Ottsel was finally content that he would be safe enough upon the bizarre elevator, and stepped on.

Tarath punched a few holographic buttons on a control panel, and they suddenly began to shoot down into the depths of the facility. About fifteen seconds later, the ride came to an abrupt halt, and before them was yet another darkened chamber. However, another verbal command from the Praetor next to them, and it became as bright as day.

'**_Wow…' _**Kage trailed off, in awe over what he was seeing.

Jak was at a loss for words, and could merely nod in a dumb fashion as he stared out over the room. Even Daxter could not hold back an impressed whistle at what his large eyes were seeing.

Everywhere, there was alien technology.

From otherworldly computer consoles, to what appeared to be lab stations with strange looking devices standing upon them, there was evidence to the Precursors and the technological mastery they had achieved before they had vanished so suddenly.

"What is this place?" Jak inquired, his slitted eyes peering about, trying to memorize every detail that he could.

"A research facility built within the volcano." Tarath answered, before stepping off of the lift and motioning for the Ascended Channeler and the ottsel to follow him past the myriad of lab stations.

"Isn't this sorta poor real estate for a place like this?" Daxter asked, an incredulous look upon his face as he stared around.

"On the contrary," the Reaver replied, "the volcano here provides a natural energy source via geothermal heating." he then looked back over his shoulder at the furry rodent, a hidden smile upon his face. "And I can assure you that we are well protected by the outer walls of this facility. During the millennia since its construction, it has survived more than a dozen eruptions."

Upon hearing this, Daxter relaxed visibly, letting out a silent sight of relief.

They once again fell into silence for a time, the two compatriots staring about in an awed hush as they passed through the facility. After about ten minutes, though, they reached a set of doors that looked rather heavily reinforced to say the least, as there were bars of some strange sort of metallic substance crisscrossing over it from every conceivable angle, and it was covered by some sort of glowing energy shield.

Tarath walked up to the door, before placing his right hand into a slot next to the main control panel for the door, which was currently covered. His mind registered what would have normally been a rather uncomfortable scanning procedure as the high tech machinery picked apart and analyzed the genetic code from his sole remaining limb and ran it through its databanks. Then, a hidden control panel opened, and Jak and Daxter watched as the Precursor entered what appeared to be about a twenty digit alphanumeric access code. There was a signal of acknowledgement once again, and this time, what looked like a microphone appeared out of the wall.

"Tarath Shien, Reaver, Praetor, alpha omega sigma." the black armored Ancient said into it.

Still not done, the security measures then went on to scan the retina of his right eye. All the while, the dark elf and the Ottsel behind him were open mouthed at the level of security present here.

'**_Whatever is behind that door is either powerful, or dangerous.' _**Kage remarked, shaking his head in disbelief.

'_Knowing how these guys were, it's probably both.' _Jak replied with a slight chuckle, getting him a nod from the oni.

Finally, the shield dropped, and what turned out to be a _pair_ of blast doors opened to allow for them to enter. Motioning for the others to follow him, he stepped inside, and once again lit up the room with a single word.

Once more, elf, ottsel, and oni were robbed of their breath as they saw what lay inside.

This looked almost like some sort of bizarre equipment room, and row after row of silver armor and various blade type weapons, some familiar, others utterly foreign in appearance, filled the chamber up. Most surprising of all, though, was the fact that the armor was not made for a Precursor. In fact, based upon the humanoid appearance of it, Jak was certain that it looked like equipment meant for…

"So…" he began, giving the Reaver in front of him a scathing look, "its true then." He shook his head. "The Channelers were to be nothing more than cannon fodder for your war with the Metal Heads."

Tarath remained silent, his back to the Ascended Channeler, the only acknowledgement that he had even heard the dark elf being a slight droop in his head. Finally, after many moments, he spoke.

"Kor's assessment of what your roles were was a grim one." The Precursor muttered, a tone of sadness in his voice. "Grim…but accurate."

"So, because you had to survive at any cost, you went and dragged us into a war we had no way in hell of winning?" Jak shouted, clenching his fist his fists, his strange eyes blazing in rage. "How many of us died because of what you did? How many elven parents screamed for mercy while the Hora-quan slaughtered their children, children cursed with your 'gift' to them?"

"Even we Precursors are not without our sins, and I will not deny that our actions were wrong." Tarath said in a soft voice, slowly turning around to face the Ascended Channeler. "But it was a necessary evil."

"A necessary evil?" Jak echoed, enough venom in his voice to make Daxter recoil, as the ottsel realized that his friend was about to enter 'kill mode.'

"There was more than our civilization at stake." The Reaver said quietly, his head facing the ground. "Gaia's very life was on the line!"

"What?" the dark elf asked, his tone incredulous.

"All I ask is that you listen to the full story," the black armored Ancient said, extending his hand slightly. "You deserve the truth, at the very least."

"I'm listening." Jak growled.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, there's a good stopping point. After this, comes the reader's digest version of the Precursor history, and Jak will finally get Mar's Armor. Then, the action will switch back to Keira and co for a little while.

If you see anything that could be improved in this fight, or have any ideas, constructive criticisms, flames, or things of that nature, let me know.

Special thanks again to Wennichelle for letting me use her artistic idea, and to animedragongirl for beta reading this. 

That said, will see you next week, and have a great one.


	6. History Lessons and a Gift

Good day to you all, and its great to see you again, nightmare tests and site crashes aside…

Still playing good ole Battlefront II, and I have discovered the embarrassment of having my comrades have their butts handed to them by a bunch of walking teddy bears, and the joys of simultaneously cutting down Luke Skywalker and Yoda as Darth Maul and watching Mace Windu block a bunch of shots from Jango as Boba sneaks up from behind with a flamethrower…(insert insane giggling).

Once again, my bloodlust aside, to those of you who reviewed:

**Farr2rich- **Thanks again for the powers, and for everything else you've offered. Really liked the last chapter of your own story, and I hope you update it soon, I wanna see what happens next!

**PhiloWorm- **Thanks for the ideas, my friend, I think They'll come in quite handy. As for the Light Ascended form, it will indeed have wings just like Tyreal, just as L.J's were in the third game. However, unlike in the game, Keira's wings will double as whip like weapons, and she will use them…a lot. Thanks again, and I hope you like the history lesson here.

**Crazed Demon- **Tarath will do his share of the fighting, rest assured, though most of it will be through flashbacks that will deal with everything from the Precursor Civil War to his defeat at Kor's hands. However, he'll really get in on the action once the Fallen make their official return. Plus, once the finale comes around, there will likely be an entire chapter dedicated to his battle. Hope this pleases you, and let me know if there's anything you'd like to see happen.

**Ali O- **Yeah, Jak and Kage are both a little pissed, but this is where Tarath explains most of the story, and before the end of the entire WOTA story, Jak and the others will come to understand why they did what they did. That said, I hope you like this chapter, and that it is not as bad as I think it is.

**Air of Mystery- **Never actually read that book, truth be told. As for the influences, the Precursors do have the robe deal going while not in combat form. Their battle forms are actually based upon the Protoss of Star Craft, which have triple jointed legs, freaky psychokinetic powers, and a thing for long dreadlocked hair. However, rest assured that Mar's Armor has its roots in Alien vs. Predator…with a few modifications. This is my first real AU jump ever, and I hope that I don't botch it. (crosses fingers) Let me know if I screw up, and if so, how I may correct it.

**GoodMorningBeautiful2005- **Keira and the others will actually make their reappearance in the next chapter, and will also take center stage in the chapter after that, before the action revolves back to Jak and company, which is where Veger will get his next thrashing. That said, hope you like this chapter, as Tarath continues his explanation.

**YamiTenshi14**- Actually, Tarath wasn't who I was referring too about the scythe. His warp blade does resemble a scythe, but the villain who will be using that weapon will actually have a scythe, staff and all, and probably with something extra nasty tacked on as well. Hope I did a good job on this chapter, so let me know if you can, and how I can correct any screw ups that might be in it.

**Exardas- **Glad you liked it, as for equipment…well…you'll just have to wait and see, won't you? Hope you like the chapter, with its mix of history, technical crap, and a fight scene. Aside from that, best of luck to you in your own writings.

**animedragongirl- **I cannot thank you enough for all the help that you are, and I am glad that I was able to help out with your prank war story, as I really enjoy reading it, and I can't help but wonder what's going to be coming up next. Will try to have the next chapter to you ASAP, and thanks again.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Don't worry, Mar's Armor will do far more here than it did in the game…truly I fear I may have overpowered it a bit…(frown)…also as far as the Dark Invisibility is concerned, Jak already knows all of his abilities, and he actually used this one in the twenty fifth chapter of Risen Demon. Also, he'll use it again in after the action reverts back to him, in a manner that will literally cause a certain arrogant count to lose control of bodily functions.

**Evil Manic- **Don't worry, Jak already can use the invisibility deal, (read chapter 25 of Risen Demon, he uses it on Keira there) and he will use it again once he sees Veger meeting with Seem, and with increasing frequency as the tale goes on. Never notices that about the Dark Strike, and I'll have to check that out. Thanks for the tip off, and I hope that you enjoy this chapter.

**Yuuzora- **Sorry to hear that you got grounded, and I hope that this chapter has been worth the wait. Yeah, I've been giving Kage some time, in the spotlight, and I hope to give him much more in the future. As for Seem, she will continue to antagonize Jak and Kage for a while, but I will try to explain her side of the story, and hopefully do a good job showing why she dislikes darkness so much. Pleas let me know what you think of this chapter, and if you have any ideas as well.

**Amathist Fwirrel- **Yeah, I always preferred his hair long as well, not sure why really, but it might be whole elf deal. (shrugs) As for writing this well, I wasn't always this good…matter of fact, my first three stories are buried somewhere on my hardrive, and there they shall stay until the end of the world, as they are so bad that I shall not disgrace this site with their presence. If you want to get better, I would recommend getting your hands on some books written by the Masters, like R.A. Salvatore or Eric Nylund, and watch how they do it. That said, good luck in your own writings, and I hope you find this chapter to you likening.

**SRHumprhey727- **Ahh, the ever dreaded research paper, I know how you feel. Still, we always have the vacations to look forward to. Hope you find this chapter worth the week long wait, and best of luck to you in school.

**MariaShadow- **Yeah, I wondered why they didn't just drop dead of heat stroke or something…them again, Jak seems to be able to miraculously recover after falling into bottomless pits, so meh, I guess that's the way the world works. As far as the Necessary Evil is concerned, I hope that I explain it in enough detail…

**mixerup- **Thank you for the vote of confidence, and I hope that I live up to your expectations, and that you enjoy this chapter, as I am really nervous about it.

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Glad that you liked the style, I'm just glad that I was allowed to make use of it. As for length, yeah, this is going to be a big one. I hope to make it even longer than Risen Demon, and so far, that's what it's starting to look like. Wish me luck, and please update your own stories soon, I beg of you! (falls to knees, hands clenched above head)

**Every Heart Bleeds- **Glad to know that I am still performing well, though I fear to slip up at any moment. Sorry about the errors, and animedragongirl has been busy, but she catches most of the goof ups that turn these chapters into train wrecks as far as mechanics are concerned. That said, I hope that you find the epilogue of Risen Demon to your liking.

**Beloved Rose- **Thanks for letting me know how I'm doing with Tarath, and I hope that you find his tale to be one worth the hearing, and that I haven't really gone to mar in the alterations to Mar's Armor that I've taken the liberty of doing. (crosses fingers and prays fervently) Thanks again for the advice, and I hope that I continue to please.

To those of you who read, but did not review, I hope that you have found this worth your time, and that I have not scarred or disillusioned you towards Fanfiction in general.

To the Lawyers: I hereby swear upon my immortal soul that I own only those characters who have merged from the woodworks of my crazy little mind.

Word of warning to everyone, this is where the AU stuff really starts to kick in, just so you know.

* * *

&

* * *

History Lessons and a Gift.

"The first thing that you should know about us," Tarath began, staring off into space as he recalled the history of his people, "is that we were not always the technology driven beings that we were at the height of our civilization. Once, we were very much like you elves were at the beginning of your own history."

"Meaning what, precisely?" Daxter inquired, cocking an eyebrow.

"That we were a nomadic people in the beginning," the Reaver explained, "scrounging about, living off the land for the most part, very much in tune with the planet." He then paused, as if searching for the right words to say. "As time progressed, we began to advance ourselves, and learn new ways of providing what was needed. But, throughout all of that time, our people turned to our champions in times of need."

"And who were they?" Jak asked, small amounts of anger still present in his voice over hearing the awful truth of his people's nature confirmed.

"Our own Channelers, those among us born with that mysterious gift from Gaia." the Precursor said. "It was they who watched over the tribes of our people, they who defended them from the many dangerous creatures that roamed the world at that time." He paused once again, crossing his arms and sighing. "As the centuries passed and we began to advance into what you might call a 'technological revolution,' one thing remained true throughout the times: we Precursors had trouble getting along with one another, and wars were frequent and bloody. But, even when we were at the level of advancement that most of your kind is now, no weapon we crafted, no technology we gave birth to, was ever deadlier than the innate abilities of our Channelers."

"Okay, so you guys liked blowing each other up, how does this get us to where we are now?" Daxter snapped, his patience wearing thin.

"I'm getting to that." Tarath said calmly, holding out his hand and requesting that he be allowed to finish. "Then, one faction developed something that would change the course of our history forever: they succeeded in creating artificial intelligence computers."

"A.I.s?" Jak said, raising an eyebrow.

"Precisely." the Reaver confirmed. "With them in place, they were quick to begin mapping our genetic code, as it had long been theorized that there was some mutation present within Channelers that enabled them to harness Eco and use it with such power. It took them a while, but they did manage to isolate one area of a genome that resulted in causing the gift." He then stared at the dark elf and the Ottsel, letting his gaze travel between them. "Care to guess what happened next?"

"Gene therapy?" Daxter ventured.

"Mmmhmm." Tarath said. "Imagine it, if you will, the power they commanded after that. You've seen it yourself, Jak, how far beyond your fellow elves you are. Imagine an army of Channelers against foes armed with conventional weapons."

'**_That brings back memories.' _**Kage muttered sardonically.

'_No kidding.' _Jak replied, nodding his head in acknowledgement to the Precursor at the same time.

"Needless to say," the Praetor continued, "they achieved a swift victory over the other factions. However, rather than destroying them, they assimilated the other groups into a massive tribe, the goal of which being to share their newfound knowledge and use everyone's combined intellect to propel our civilization forward."

"Did it work?" the dark elf inquired, curiosity replacing anger.

"It was a golden age." the Reaver answered, a note of longing present in his voice, "United together, rather than trying to tear each other apart, my ancestors catapulted us forward into a whole new realm of possibilities. Within fifty years of the end of the wars, we were building ships and making rudimentary voyages into space, and from there studying the properties of this solar system and beyond." Tarath paused for a moment, before spreading his arms wide. "Within a century and a half, we had perfected the art of intraplanetary teleportation and were beginning to send probes into slip space, testing to see if it was possible for us to survive faster than light travel. By the gods, there were even plans to begin sending out forces of our people to attempt colonization of other worlds."

"And just how long did your little utopia last?" Daxter inquired, crossing his arms and giving the Precursor his famous look. "Cause it sure looks like things went wrong somewhere along the line."

"They did." Tarath responded bitterly. "And the irony of the situation was so thick I could have cut it with my warp blade." He then flicked his wrist, and with a mechanical locking sound, the scythe like weapon attached to his right arm flipped forward and twisted about, coming into an attack position.

"After nearly sixteen generations of peace, things came crashing down around our ears." the black armored Ancient lamented. "We had sent out probes to the various corners of the galaxy, and most had returned. While they had been successful in gathering data from the planets that they encountered, there was a slight problem." he sighed, then, or at least made the motion of sighing, as he could no longer breathe. "The vast majority of the planets were completely uninhabitable by our kind. However, our scientists were not to be deterred, and they began experimenting with different means of altering a planet's atmosphere and landscape."

"Terraforming?" Jak said in disbelief, having heard Samos muse on the topic a few times.

"Yes." Tarath told him, nodding slightly as he did so. "And within a decade, they had come up with a means of doing so that involved altering the Eco flowing through the land. I was born during this time, and I was just coming of age when they attempted it for the first time on a large scale." He paused, and chuckled bitterly. "Care to take a guess as to where we tried it out?"

The duo exchanged glances with each other, before they shrugged, causing a grim smile to form on the scarred visage hidden behind the Reaver's dark helmet.

"We're standing right in the middle of it." the Ancient said after a few moments.

"Wha?" Daxter screeched, his eyes bugging outward.

"Huh?" Jak muttered.

'**_What?' _**Kage distorted voice rumbled from within the dark elf's mind.

"Hard to believe isn't it," Tarath continued, laughing another bitter laugh, "that this Wasteland was once the most paradisiacal and fertile place on the face of Gaia."

"What happened?" Daxter asked in a tone of disbelief. "Did someone use the wrong Miracle Grow?"

"We succeeded in creating a Garden of Eden," the Praetor went on, ignoring the Ottsel's interruption, "but the terraforming was…unnatural, and it disrupted the delicate balance that the planet had. After about eleven years, the environment began to break down as it literally ran out of Eco to keep itself going…and you could hear the planet scream in agony."

He was met with confused stares, and mentally slapped himself, realizing that they didn't know everything that he did.

"Believe it or not, you two, Gaia is alive." he said as he crossed his arms. "The planet is a living, sentient organism, with a soul and a life force of its own. Eco is her lifeblood, and by tampering with it on such a scale, we hurt her almost to the point of destroying her." He suddenly clenched a fist in anger, while looking towards the ceiling of the chamber. "We, in our arrogance, nearly destroyed the being that the gods crafted for us to live upon in the first place. Even now, after all of this time, Gaia has still yet to recover from the blow that we dealt her, even with all of her attention focused here, trying to heal herself.

"In fact," the Precursor continued, "so great is her focus upon healing this shattered land and attempting to restore herself that she has had to give the job of overseeing her balance to other individuals."

"The Sages?" both dark elf and Ottsel asked, astounded looks upon their faces.

"Yes," Tarath answered, before turning around and walking away, "they are called by the planet to watch over the delicate balance of the rest of the world while she attempts to patch herself up. But, back to us."

"The results of the terraforming caused a split between us, with one faction flat out refusing to allow a second attempt, while another believed that through these failures, we could learn how to get it right."

"And you guys went to war over this?" Daxter muttered.

"I can see precious fewer things more appropriate to fight over than the fate of your entire home world." The Precursor shot back, before sighing bitterly once again. "The civil war was brutal, and it decimated us. Families and friends turned upon each other. Brother slew sister with malice in his heart, and children killed their parents, and parents their children…gods above, it was an awful time, ending only in a climatic battle here, upon this desolate waste, where we finally forced the Fallen Ones, as we called them, to surrender."

"What happened after that?" Jak asked.

"We banished them from this world, and loaded them up on a transport ship, the Day Star, we called it." the dark Ancient answered. "And we thought that was the end of things, hoping that we could return to what we were doing before, and trying to rebuild our nearly shattered civilization."

"Then the Metal Heads showed up, right?" Daxter guessed.

"Correct." Tarath answered. "The Fallen Ones had been working on a biological weapon to turn the tide of the war in their favor, and the abominations you call the Metal Heads were the result. They caught us off guard, and their victories were swift and vicious as they overwhelmed us, our warriors sometimes being outnumbered as many as a hundred and fifty to one."

"Ehhhhh." the orange furred rodent remarked, scratching the back of his head and chuckling nervously.

"Indeed." the Reaver muttered in a dark tone. "I'll spare you the details, but suffice to say that we fought them for years, until we realized _we_ didn't have a chance in hell of winning."

"So you turned to us." Jak said, anger seeping back into his voice.

"You must understand our position, Jak," the Precursor explained, "we battled them until we were spent, even now, we have virtually nothing left, those of us who survived were hidden away until the right time, and have only now been brought out of stasis."

"And where are they now?" the dark elf asked.

"The seventeen hundred odd warriors that we have left in our ranks are currently brushing up on their skills." He began before Jak interrupted him.

"There are only seventeen hundred of you left?" he exclaimed, his eyes widening.

"Actually," the Reaver said with a shrug of his shoulders, "the number is closer to ten thousand, but they are children for the most part, many of which have yet to see their twelfth planetary revolution."

That bit of info hit Jak, Daxter, and Kage like a ton of bricks, and they at last began to understand why the Precursors might have been so desperate. Briefly, they wondered if the Ancients would ever be able to recover from the blow the Hora-quan had dealt them, as numbers like that did not exactly indicate a secure future. Almost as if he were able to read their minds, Tarath spoke again.

"I doubt we will survive the coming conflict." He muttered quietly.

"Coming conflict?" Jak inquired, not fully understanding.

"Kor somehow managed to remain in contact with the Fallen Ones, and I think his death has forced their hand, and now they are coming to finish what was started." He then turned around to face the duo again. "Have you never wondered how the Metal Heads were managing to hold themselves together even after Kor's destruction? It is because their true masters still live, and those things that have been dropping down all over the place are scouting probes, here for the purpose of reconnaissance so that the Fallen Ones will be fully prepared once they arrive."

"So you mean that we've got some bad guy Precursors coming here to stomp us into the dirt?" Daxter muttered, a slight tic appearing at the edge of his right eye. "We're doomed!"

"How many of them are there?" the Ascended Channeler asked, a rare note of despair appearing in his voice.

"About seven thousand of them." Tarath answered. "I do not think that their numbers have changed much since their original exile."

"What makes you so sure of that?" Daxter wailed.

"Because, in hopes that they could change, they were provided with stasis chrysalises to use while they searched for a new world for one thing," the dark armored Ancient explained, "and because if their numbers had grown, I don't think they would have waited five millennia to come back and attempt another campaign."

'**_Something still doesn't make sense though.' _**Kage remarked, shaking his head.

"Then why are they using Metal Heads and these droids to attack Haven City?" the dark elf asked Tarath, reaching the same conclusion as his alter ego.

"The Fallen Ones are led by a warrior named Kerrog Lostarr, an Archon of no small talent." the Reaver said, before he was interrupted by a certain furry rodent once more.

"An Archon?" he asked, not fully understanding.

"A warrior aligned with the Light element of Eco." Tarath explained, before answering another question before it could be asked. "Yes, yes I know, it's rather ironic. At any rate, he and his fellows have not forgotten how bitter their defeat was last time, and they are not about to overestimate their potential. They are not taking any chances this time, and he is using the Hora-quan and the mechanical soldiers to weaken what he sees as the greatest threat that can be brought to bear against him and his fellows."

"Great…" Jak muttered, massaging his temples as he tried to digest this new information.

"If you're done with the history lesson, Praetor Tarath," came another voice that both the Ascended Channeler and the Ottsel recognized after a second, "I'm finished with the checks, and all we need is to insert the power sources."

Both of them looked up and saw Gol Akaron, or at least, what looked like him, floating above them. In reality, both knew it to be a holographic project of Sentinel, the Precursian A.I. that had been responsible for guarding Mar's Tomb, and who had had a very large hand in ripping Jak off of his self destructive path.

"Ain't you supposed to be watching over old King Cole?" Daxter asked, crossing his arms and looking up at the hologram. "And do you have to keep appearing like that, it's really freaky seeing that nutcase like he's back from the dead."

"My creators felt I would be of better use to them working out of here for the moment, and if you would prefer a different look, I can change my appearance." it replied with a shrug, before a flash enveloped it, and a hovering Precursor, clad in white armor, appeared in its place. "Better?"

"Much so." the former elf remarked.

"If you are finished, mutant," Tarath said, a minor note of impatience in his voice, "I have something to give to your companion."

"And what would that be?" the dark elf inquired.

"Follow me and I will show you." the Reaver said, beckoning to them once again.

They did so, and the next few minutes went by in silence as they passed chamber after chamber, full to the brim with the silver armor suits, giving Jak not only a good idea of just how large this facility was, but of just how many Channelers the Precursors had intended to have bred up for this army.

And this was just one facility, there might have even been more, for all he knew.

Finally, they reached another door, and after passing through a few more security protocols, though not nearly as many as had barred the first door, they entered yet another darkened chamber. When this one lit up, Jak was unable to keep his breath in his lungs.

Supported by a mannequin, about twenty paces from where he stood, was another suit of armor…but this was one he was very familiar with.

The legendary armor that Mar, first king of Haven City had worn into battle lay in front of them, as magnificent as the day in which it was first made.

The armor was exactly as the two of them remembered it from the various murals they had seen of Mar wearing it. It was black for the most part, with the occasional purple highlight upon certain areas, and made of some unknown material. As far as materials were concerned, it was composed of metallic 'strips' that were linked together to form plates and a sort of jumpsuit type underweave, the former of which covered the upper chest and a small three or four inch wide strip that went down front and back to the waist, leaving the sides exposed, sacrificing protection for the sake of flexibility. The outside parts of the shoulders, the hands and forearms, as well as the upper and lower legs, and of course, the feet were also covered by it. As was in the case of the torso gear, certain parts were left unarmored so as not to impede the movement of the wearer.

Then there was the intimidating helmet, with its sharp angles, eerie visor, and dark coloring, which made it almost look like an elven version of the headgear that Tarath wore. However, rather than the upward curving horns upon the sides of the Precursor's helmet, the helm of the long dead king had a bunch of war braids hanging off of the back, which varied in length from about one foot at the edges to almost two at the center, and were also made from some alien material.

"How did you get this?" Jak asked, not daring to believe what he was seeing in front of him.

"It was scattered all over the Wasteland." Tarath said, sudden memories of Mar flashing before him, as he recalled all the times that he had spent with his descendent and his friend. "It was quite a task to find it all, but once I did, Sentinel was able to make the necessary repairs."

"How could it have gotten to the Wasteland," Jak muttered in a quiet voice suddenly choking with emotion, "if my father died covering the retreat at the Metal Head Nest…"

"I do not know." The Reaver standing next to him said, empathizing with his loss. "But the armor is yours by right now, and with our Fallen Brethren returning to start another war, I would think it wise for you to become accustomed to its use."

Jak nodded silently, before removing the electro-mesh robe that Keira had made for him, carefully folding it and placing it upon the ground, before stripping off the rest of his gear, and preparing himself mentally for what was about to happen.

* * *

"How do I look?" he asked, turning to face Daxter.

"Like the cover-boy of 'monthly warlord fashions.'" the ottsel responded in a cheeky tone of voice.

Suiting up had taken a few minutes, mostly due to the fact that the dark elf had never before been encased as he was now, which had led to a few awkward moments as Tarath had had to explain how to properly don the equipment.

The underweave had come first, obviously, and after that the chestplate and the greaves, followed by the armor protecting his extremities. What truly surprised Jak was just how easy it was to move in this gear, and not only because the joints were unarmored. Strangely enough, even the material that made up the plates was flexible to a degree. It was also incredibly light in weight, and the Ascended Channeler doubted that the whole armor suit weighed more than twenty pounds.

Now, all that was left for him to do was to put the helmet on, but as he went to do so, Tarath extended his hand, and motioned for him to wait a minute.

"Before you finish," he said, "you should know that this armor does more than simply protect your body from harm, though it will do that rather well."

"What kind of metal is this anyway?" Jak inquired, holding up a hand and examining the gauntlet on it.

"It is not a metal at all." the Reaver said, folding his arms across his chest. "It is an organic crystalloid substance we call 'Vibrium.'"

"Organic?" Jak repeated, staring at the equipment even harder now. "You mean this stuff is alive?"

"In the same sense that Kitetsu is, for they are made of the same material." Sentinel stated, showing interest in the conversation for the first time. "Vibrium is truly an amazing thing to study. It reacts to and focuses Eco of all the different elements; when harvested and crafted into a blade, its edge can be honed and shaped by power currents and Eco infusions to where it can cut practically to the molecular level." the hologram explained, excitement filling its voice. "On the other hand, if you craft it into a piece of armor, and it takes a hit, be it from physical contact or an Eco based attack, the atoms within it 'sense' the attack, and bunch up around that area, making it far more difficult to penetrate than would otherwise be possible."

"The underweave is also very sturdy in its own right," Tarath told them, "it is constructed from a material known as Ryth'ar and it is highly resistant to blaster fire and other Eco based attacks, though Metal Heads have proven that they can tear through it with little difficulty, so be careful."

"This the same stuff that you use in your gear?" Jak inquired, looking up at the Reaver.

"No, my armor and weapon is made of Metatron, as are the 'normal' suits of armor that you saw earlier." he replied with a shake of his head. "It is a laboratory created version of the naturally occurring variety of Vibrium. It's not as good as the original, mind you, but it is easier to make, as it took about two months just to 'grow' the material necessary to make Kitetsu."

"Nice to know you were at least planning on equipping us for the job." The dark elf remarked sardonically, causing the black armored Ancient to once again hang his head. "But tell me this: why is this suit different?"

"Because," Sentinel stated, "we had run calculations on the outcome of the Channeler project, and while it showed that most would be capable of using all types of Eco with equal proficiency, that there was a chance for a few mutants that were polarized to an even greater degree than the Precursors were." The hologram paused for a moment, weaving its hands around and bringing up a display of both Mar's Armor and a normal suit. "The standard issue equipment was to be issued to the rank and file Channelers, while it was decided that the Ascended ones, as you elves term them, would serve as either field commanders or special operations agents, depending upon what powers they emerged with. As such, the armor that you now wear would be required to be of a higher quality. The appearance was also altered so that in the event of the Channeler being in charge of a unit, his or her subordinates would be able to identify their commander more easily."

"I see…" Jak muttered, not quite sure what to make of this.

Tarath, his head still facing the ground, reached into a bit of webbing that he had on his waist and pull out a glowing Dark Eco Crystal, no doubt taken from the crashed observation probe. He then placed it into the recession in the helmet, where it flashed for a brief moment, before a pair of coverings came in from the side and sealed it off.

"The armor requires two to be at its full potential." the Reaver stated, before turning to face Daxter. "Would you be so kind as to bring me the one in your companion's coat?"

"No way, Darth Vader." the ottsel replied shaking his hands and his head in a fierce 'not going to happen' type gesture. "I ain't touching nothing having anything to do with Dark Eco, there's no telling what more of that stuff might do to me!"

Tarath groaned, before walking over and carefully extracting the Crystal from the pocket it had been in. He then walked over to Jak, and placed his hand against the center of the chestplate, causing another recess to appear. The Reaver placed the Dark Eco Crystal inside of it, and let it seal itself back up, before motioning to the Ascended Channeler that it was time to put on the last piece of the equipment.

Jak did as he was instructed, and slowly, with a reverence he felt was deserving of the armor, slipped the helmet over his head. There was a slight hissing noise, and on some instinctive level, the dark elf realized that the armor had just sealed itself, and listening closely, thought he could hear what sounded like micro-scrubbers filtering the air that he was breathing, a definite advantage in the event that someone used an airborne toxin or something of that nature.

"So what else is this thing supposed to do besides protect me?" he inquired of Tarath.

"Do you see that blinking red light in the upper left corner of the helmet?" the Reaver asked, continuing when Jak nodded 'yes.' "Look directly at it, and blink three times, quickly."

He did as he was instructed, and then next moment, found himself grouping about for something to lean against as he unleashed chaos inside of the helmet and had what felt like thousands of needles suddenly jamming into his scalp.

What he hadn't been aware of was what had happened on the outside.

Daxter had leapt back as two flashes, one from the helmet and another from the chestplate, had shone through the Vibrium, and sent purple, vein-like spikes of energy flowing throughout the armor, which still happened every few seconds, as the armor kept a constant 'eye' on its own systems.

From Jak's perspective, he was nearly sent reeling from the explosion of icons, displays, and H.U.D. items that flashed in front of his face.

'**_Look at all the pretty lights.'_** Kage muttered in a dazed tone of voice, swaying back and forth while his eyes rolled around as if he was suffering from some sort of seizure.

"I forgot to warn you how disorienting it could be, but you will get used to it." the Praetor said in a neutral voice. "Now, though, I believe an explanation is in order. First, do you see the barred line at the top of your visor?"

"Yes."

"That is a self orienting compass." Tarath informed him. "You can use it to reference your current heading at any time. Next, look at the circle in the lower left hand corner."

"Alright." Jak said as he did what he was instructed to do.

"That is a motion sensing device. If anything within fifteen meters of you so much as twitches, that will pick it up." he explained, and suddenly leaped up into the air, causing a green blur to appear on the sensor. "Green means that the target is above you, while red means it is below you. A yellow blur indicates that the movement is on level with your current position, at least in the event of the movement being from a hostile or other type of unidentified source."

"It can tell friend from foe?" Jak replied incredulously.

"If you program it to." Tarath said. "The helmet is capable of sending out tight beam communications and receiving similar signals. It can also trace the signals back to their sources. If you know what communications frequencies that your allies are using, you can program the sensor to recognize them as 'friendlies.' If movement comes from such an identified source, they will appear as white, blue, or black, depending upon their altitude in relation to yours."

"And how do I program this thing?" the dark elf inquired.

"By thinking about it." the black armored Ancient explained, tapping his finger against his head. "The sensations that you felt when you activated the armor's systems were neural lace probes that can interpret brain signals and translate them into actions that it can carry out. That is also how you can change the vision mode that you have at the moment."

"The helmet has vision modes?" Jak remarked, staring at his ancestor with wide eyes.

"Three besides your normal vision." the Precursor acknowledged. "A light amplification mode, a thermal vision, and an electromagnetic one for sensing hidden electronic devices, you can cycle through them now, if you'd like, though I wouldn't recommend using the enhanced light mode with the room being as brightly lit as it is at the moment."

The dark elf nodded, before switching to the heat mode. What he saw through that was surprising, as it was not at all what he'd expected. The thermal visors that he had used before had been of elven design, and had shown various temperature 'blobs' where a target was. This was something else all together, something vastly more sensitive than anything he'd ever seen before, apparently able to tell heat differences of up to a tenth of a degree, if the small scale was telling him correctly. Also, nothing was lost when it came to the 'resolution' of observed objects, and staring around, he found himself still able to make out Daxter's fur, and actually see the direction in which the ottsel's pupils were looking.

'**_That should make it a little more difficult for any Cloakers to get the drop on us.' _**Kage remarked, a foul undertone to his voice as he and Jak both recalled that particular memory.

The dark elf mentally concurred with his alter ego, before switching over to the electromagnetic mode of vision…and being virtually blinded by the glowing whiteness that suddenly filled the room.

"I think Tarath also forgot to warn you that we have quite a bit of electric equipment within our walls." Sentinel remarked, chuckling slightly at the Ascended Channeler's discomfort.

Switching back to normal vision, Jak sent him a glare that was unseen behind the emotionless visor of his helmet.

"Back to the lesson at hand." Tarath said, rolling his right eye. "You can also call up the armor's status via your thoughts." and he paused for a moment to let Jak do so.

A small sub-screen appeared in the lower right hand corner of his field of vision, showing the systems and the armor plating itself as green.

"A malfunctioning system will be shown as red, as will a severely damaged part of the armor." the Precursor continued. "A partially damaged armor plate will appear as yellow."

"Great." Jak remarked. "Now, what are these other screens just outside of the main visor?"

"The result of one of the most ingenious ideas ever to grace the minds of our scientists." Tarath said. "The helmet is capable of a full three hundred and sixty degree optical sensing, to allow you to keep visual track of everything going on around you. You can also zoom any of the screens in, again by thinking about it, to a maximum magnification of about thirty times."

"So I've got five pairs of binoculars built in," the dark elf muttered, "nice. Anything else I should know?"

"As you've no doubt realized," Sentinel remarked, and all parties looked up at it, "the armor is now sealed except for the micro filters, forming a clean, hazard free environment inside. What you should know is that in the event of an emergency, you can shut them down and close them, as the suit can recycle its own air supply for up to two hours."

'**_We'll have to bear that in mind should we ever decide to take a spacewalk.' _**Kage muttered, snorting as he did so.

"It also partially masks your thermal signature." the computer continued, unaware of the oni's remark.

"This is going to take some getting used to." Jak muttered, staring around at everything going on the inside of the visor.

"Well, you'll need to be used to doing it soon," Tarath said beginning to turn away, "and I know of one way to speed the process up." He then paused, and looked back at Jak, his visor meeting the Channeler's "And once again, I cannot stress enough that even this armor merely levels the playing field…you are tough, not invincible."

"Don't worry," the dark elf responded, his voice deadly serious, "I've had enough close calls to where I don't rely on armor to save my hide."

"See that you keep that philosophy." The Reaver told him. "A warrior who entrusts his life to his weapons and armor is a warrior with one foot already in the grave."

"Yo, Vader, you gonna speed up his learning process or not?" Daxter inquired, leaning against the wall.

In response, Sentinel placed its right hand against its forehead, and yet another door opened, this one off to the right side of the room. They followed the hologram and the black armored Precursor as they went inside, staring around at a large, semispherical room.

"What's this place supposed to be?" Jak inquired, somewhat confused.

Tarath remained silent, opting instead to simply flick his right wrist in a certain manner, causing his scythe-like warp blade to flip about and lock itself in position, before turning around and facing the dark elf.

"I see." He remarked, drawing Kitetsu and summoning a phantom blade at the same time, before assuming the Juyo fighting stance.

"A moment before you begin, Dark One." the hologram floating above them stated, and from a pair of ceiling hatches a trio of strange looking machines flew in, the smaller one in the center sending a strange looking energy beam at Kitetsu, which hit it before the elf holding it could do anything. "That was to rearrange the molecules within the blade, effectively dulling it and turning it into a training weapon," the computer said, as the hovering drone did the same thing to Tarath's warp blade, "and your Dark Eco copies of the katana won't hurt Tarath that much." It paused, and with a motion, sent the smaller one back up the hatch it had come out of.

"The other two are simple training drones, and they will fire upon you as you spar with Tarath to teach you to pay attention to your secondary viewing screens." It continued after a couple of seconds, before looking right at him. "Are you ready to begin?"

"You bet." Jak replied.

'**_This ought to be intriguing.' _**His inner demon mused, undeniable eagerness present in his voice.

"Begin!" the hologram shouted.

Both warriors shot towards each other at breakneck speeds, crossing the distance between them in less than a second. For once, Jak decided to play defense in an attempt to see just what this legendary Precursian soldier was capable of dishing out.

Which would turn out to be quite a bit, as the Reaver brought his warp blade down from above with incredible power, and blunted our not, Jak had little doubt that an impact would do serious harm to his personage. Fortunately, though he could feel the almost unnatural strength behind the strike, he was able to deflect harmlessly away, and lashed out with the shadow katana in his left hand, thrusting it forward.

Tarath was as good on the defensive as he was on the offensive, though, and easily twisted about, letting the blade fly by him. He took that opportunity to attack, back flipping and extending his right arm, causing the serrated blade to come blasting up at Jak, who had to leap back to avoid an attack that would have no doubt bisected him in real battle had it hit.

The black armored Ancient remained airborne, uncurling and charging up his powers. Both the dark elf and Kage knew what would happen if a Channeled Dark Eco attack were to hit them, but realizing what the point of the exercise was, found themselves dodging to the sides of the arena as the hovering Precursor unleashed a flurry of dark bolt attacks similar in nature to the ones that Jak had used from time to time. He continued this manner of fighting for about thirty seconds, before he unleashed a lightning storm upon them that forced Jak to take extreme evasive action.

He focused on an area on the far side of the room, and will himself to move. There was a crack, and a small flash of darkness, and he teleported across the distance, reappearing an instant later at the spot he'd pictured in his mind. However, while useful for getting out of a tight spot, the teleportation ability was extremely draining, and as he discovered the hard way, very disorienting when one has optical views of everything around you.

Temporarily stunned, he almost lost the training round to Tarath, as the Reaver jetted back at him, his warp blade cocked back and ready to strike the very instant that he was in range. Fortunately, a blaring shout from Kage managed to get him refocused in time to deflect the incoming attack with his phantom blade, while he reversed his grip upon Kitetsu and swung it upwards in retaliation, a blow that Tarath just managed to dodge.

With a growl, Jak lunged forward, stealing back the offensive and lashing out, weaving the Blade of Mar and its copy in a deadly, macabre dance of slashes, chops and thrusts as the Praetor on the business end of the strikes frantically moved about to deflect and parry them. However, just as the dark elf was getting a good head of steam up, there was a flash on the lower screen of his H.U.D., and as his peripheral vision detected it, he realized what was happening: one of the drones had gotten behind him and was about to fire.

He threw himself to the side as it did so, and a yellow beam of energy hissed and crackled through the area he had been in a moment later, forcing Tarath up into the air to avoid being struck as well.

'**_Watch out for the other one!' _**Kage shouted in warning.

Sure enough, in the next second, he saw the glow on the left sub-screen as the other drone opened fire upon him, and he leapt up to avoid being hit. Growling, the Ascended Channeler decided to present them with a moving target, and once again threw himself at his adversary, unleashing the full power of the Juyo fighting style upon his mock adversary.

Tarath was mentally scolding himself as he barely managed to duck underneath a thrust and was then forced to perform a back-spring/handstand to avoid a swipe at his legs. Six hundred years in a stasis chrysalis was making him sloppy, apparently, and he had underestimated Jak's creativity. For while some of the moves that the dark elf used upon him were near carbon copies of what Mar had used when he'd first been developing the techniques, using him as the guinea pig, there were others being thrown at him that were completely new, and he supposed Jak must have thought those up himself.

Such were the 'advantages' of having a computer for about half of your central nervous system, he remembered just about everything that he saw and heard.

Still, he would put his lamentations aside until a better time, and instead focused upon the combat in front of him, one of the few things left in this world that could still make him feel like he was alive and whole, rather than a mechanical slave to the tyranny of physical reality.

Such was his thinking as he hurled himself away from the dark elf, taking to the air and unleashing more Channeled attacks, forcing the Ascended Channeler into evasive action as the drones joined him, firing beams of Yellow Eco at Jak as he ducked and dodged around the arena.

Abruptly, the dark elf leaped at him, twisting about in mid air to avoid some blasts from the two drones, and then lashed out with both of his weapons, an aggressive maneuver that Tarath hadn't anticipated. However, he hadn't been known as the greatest warrior among the Precursor armed forces for nothing, and he was able to swat both katanas away with lightning fast sweeps of his warp blade, following it through with a wicked slash at a downward left angle. Jak, entering free fall, was forced to divide his attention between keeping the Reaver's weapon from scoring a hit on him, and trying to remain upright in preparation for his inevitable meeting with the floor.

The dark elf hit the ground about a second later, spreading his feet out to absorb the impact, and being pretty much driven to his knees by the next blow from Tarath's warp blade. However, he received an unexpected windfall a moment later, when he saw the flashing of the two drones' weapons as his H.U.D. screens as they charged up and prepared to fire at him. He suddenly fell flat on his back, and let the beams fly over him, forcing his opponent to make himself scarce to avoid being hit as well.

Jak was quick to get back up, rolling backwards and then throwing himself forwards, leaping up as he did so and coming down on his feet, before blasting at his opponent, who was still in the process of recovering from his own landing. However, Tarath went and proved that the Ascended Channeler was not the only one who had mastered the art of leaping about on the battlefield, and he leaped into the air as well, balling up as he sailed over the dark elf.

Jak had been caught off guard by the sudden acrobatic maneuver, and could do nothing but complete his swings and watch as the black armored Ancient appeared first on his upper sub-screen as he arced over him, and then on the lower one as he landed. The dark elf had no time to turn around as the Reaver's warp blade came sailing in, and so he simply spun Kitetsu and thrust the dark katana behind his back, where the sword intercepted the scythe blade moments before it would have connected. Not to be deterred, Tarath tried again, only to find the phantom copy of the blade come in and swat his weapon aside, again with the Ascended Channeler not bothering to turn around.

A grim smile formed upon the Precursor's scarred visage. His descendent was learning how to make use of the armor quickly, something that apparently ran in the family. He actually felt an almost parental type pride growing within himself over what was happening, how this distant kin was proving himself to be the better fighter. But, that also brought back bitter memories of its own, and he wondered, if when his greatest test had come before him, if he had been as powerful, if things would have gone differently.

After all, his failure had resulted in the deaths of untold numbers of people, both Precursor and elf alike.

However, he did not allow himself to become so caught up in his own deep thoughts that he forgot what was going on around him, and skillfully parried two angled slashes that came at him as Jak spun around to face him once again.

The next instant saw the dark elf once more moving out of the way as the two drones under Sentinel's control fired at him, once more coming within a hairsbreadth of nailing him.

However, as Tarath turned to face his elven adversary, something unexpected was thrown his way, literally. Jak tossed both of his weapons at the Reaver, and made the finishing move as the black armored Ancient deflected them, leaping up into the air in a spinning roundhouse, catching him upside the head and knocking him to the ground. Tarath hit the ground with a grunt, and Jak quickly called his weapons back to him to end the fight, landing just behind the Ancient.

Though one blade was blunted and the other made out of an element that Tarath wielded with incredible skill, the Ascended Channeler nonetheless placed them against the neck of his downed adversary.

"I yield." the Praetor muttered, before chuckling slightly.

'**_Did we just do what I think we did?' _**Kage muttered, somewhat surprised that they had come out on top.

'_Well, we are supposed to be superior to them,' _Jak said in response,_ 'and we're mutants on top of that.'_

'**_Forgot about that.' _**the oni growled, a frown upon his face as he mulled over the 'necessary evil' that the Precursors had done.

"Well done, Jak." Tarath said as he got back to his feet. "Round one goes to you."

"That was just round one?" Daxter replied, finding his voice again as he stood on the sidelines.

"Yes." the Reaver said with a nod, before looking up to a certain floating hologram. "Sentinel, kill the lights."

The room was plunged into darkness, and Jak instantly knew what was coming. He switched his vision over to thermal just as Tarath came blasting back in at him.

As they began once again, the dark elf found himself becoming increasingly comfortable with this suit of armor, and wondered just how much more deadly he would be once he'd fully gotten the hang of it.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, there's a good place to stop.

As stated before, Really uneasy about this chapter, as there is a bunch of unusual stuff going on, and I hope I haven't made Mar's Armor too powerful, as that would make the story boring, if you can think of a way in which I might improve it, please let me know.

Oh yeah, on thing that I forgot to mention in the last chapter was about the feet of a Precursian combat form, which looks a lot like Raziel's from Legacy of Kain.

That said, I hope you all have a great week, and please let me know of any ideas, comments, or constructive criticisms that you might have regarding this particular chapter.

Thanks, and I'll see you next time, when we head back over to Haven for a little while.


	7. Where It All Goes Wrong

(Materializes, clad in his usual robes)

Hello everyone, and I hope that you are all having a good week, after all, Thanksgiving is right around the corner, which means time off from school (Monty Python style cheering heard). For me, that should mean more time to write, which is good, considering that the next chapter is going to be every bit of nine thousand words…all of it fighting.

An important note has come to my attention. Several of you readers expressed concern over what would happen to Mar's Armor when Kage manifested himself. Well, the vibrium making up the armor would react in a very similar nature to how the Vibrium in Kitetsu does, so don't worry, it will morph with him. I haven't decided upon the design for the helmet, but the armor itself will sort of take on the look of the Beowulf Devil Arms when Virgil had em on in DMC3.

Now, to answer the specific responses of those who reviewed:

**animedragongirl- **Hehehe, now I have the funniest image of Jak, Keira, and the rest of the gang skipping down a yellow brick road…thanks again for proofreading, and for answering my other questions. I might make some slight alterations to the name you provided, but it gave me a good base to run with, so thank you. Hope the Cyberquest thing doesn't bog you down too much, and I hope to see more of Prank Wars, soon.

**Philoworm- **Thanks for the attack idea, reminds me a lot of the charge attack the Viola A.I. unit has in Z.O.E. I hope the wait was worth it, and that you do not feel like killing me when you reach the end of this particular chapter…

**MariaShadow- **Sorry about skimming over the whole crossbreeding deal, but that will be covered later in some of Tarath's flashbacks, as one or two of them will deal with him and the elf that…well…you know… Also glad that you liked the liberties that I took with the armor, as I wasn't really sure how well that would go over.

**Exardas- **Yeah, I know what you mean, I realize I've gone from having Jak wearing a Sephiroth styled trench coat, to a robe that made him look like a Sith Lord, and now a Pred based suit…I really need to be more original in my equipment designs… At any rate, Jak will use the suit, combined with his self cloaking abilities, to scar the living crap out of Veger right after he meets with Seem. That said, good luck to you in your own works as well.

**Lunatic Pandora1- **They will be a little surprised to say the least, and Valthos/Damas in particular will be…shocked to see him wearing it, as will a good number of Marauders who go up against him in his second trial.

**Wizard Surreal- **Okay, here's the address for the pics- http/ photobucket .com/albums/ b62/nefertari22/ Jak20X20Screenshots?action view¤tvlcsnap-1598640; .jpg. If that doesn't work, let me know and I'll email the pics to you (or I'll try at least, Hotmail has proven in the past it doesn't like me very much…) As for your other questions, Jak hasn't even gone through his second trial yet, though he will do so immediately following the Wastelander rescue mission, so don't worry, and I'm really glad that you liked the armor that he's got now. Also, no, Jak and Mar are two separate people in this story, as I found the thought of him being his own ancestor to be a little freaky even for me. However, there will be a few flashbacks with Tarath in which Mar is seen, hopefully in a light that is complimentary to him. (crosses fingers) As for Keira's gear, I have an idea of when I want her to start getting her powers, but I haven't been able to think up a good time for her to receive her Precursian battle gear, and its really bugging me, cause I want her to get it before the 'preparation for the world ending battle' deal, if you know what I mean. Any ideas or suggestions?

**GoodMorningBeautiful2005- **Actually, the action won't be heading back to Jak and Dax till about Chapter Ten, as we have two chapters with Keira, and then one that will try to flesh out Tarath and Kerrog, so that they'll be more lifelike. But then don't worry, Jak will go back to beating the crap out of enemies and scarring the crap outta Veger.

**Farr2rich- **Glad that you liked the chapter, and I apologize about he fight scene length, I hope that this one and the next chapter can improve on that. (expect to see blood, gore, and the death of at least one OC). Also, keep up the good work on your own story (animedragongirl hasn't had a chance to read it yet, me and the others sending her beta chapters are bogging her down, plus she's got some school activities right now)

**Evil Manic- **Nope, no shield, that would make it too Haloish, and I've already taken enough from that. Not sure exactly when Jak and Keira will meet up soon, but rest assured that Damas will not die in my version, as what N.D. was not only pure evil, but hopelessly clichéd. (plus, you'd think Jak could catch a break for once, not to mention that Damas' death really didn't seem to bother him a whole lot, which I found strange)

**Weirdo- **No, Jak will not get any Light Eco powers, however, Keira will be getting them and a few more to boot. And yes, there will still be a Precursors revealing themselves scene, with a slight twist and Veger getting roughed up in the Process…I never seem to tired of hurting him…hehe.

**YamiTenshi14- **Don't worry, the bad guys will have mucho grande powers as well (one of them is revealed in this chapter) Also, I am glad that I am not the only one who thought Errol was just a little too nutsy in the third game. He will still be a sociopath, but he will not be out to destroy the world, just Jak. That said, I hope you find this chapter to your liking.

**Yuuzora- **Yeah, that's one of the things I'm shooting for with the Precursors, even the Fallen aren't really evil, they simply think that the knowledge to be gained is worth the risk, sorta adds a degree of complexity to em, and maybe makes them a little harder to hate. Also, Jak will not get a hand's free shield, but Keira will be able to do that move once she acquires her powers, and she will make frequent use of it, while Jak/Kage will have to dodge out of the way. Sorry to hear about your glasses, and I hope this week went a little better for ya. As for luck, don't kid yourself, I'll need all of it that I can get!

**Air of Mystery- **Your review had me laughing, as I had indeed been thinking of sound based weapons, and an 'anti droid' weapon. The sound weapon is a grenade Keira's developed, the details of which are in the story, and let's say it can be a little messy…and the other weapon is a 'precision' version of the Arc Wielder gun. That aside, I don't know about he shoulder gun, as the Metal Head Cloakers already have that, but I'll see what I can do. Hope you like the chapter.

**PrincessDarkFire- **Glad that you liked both of the stories thus far, and please let me know if there is anything that you would like to see happen. As for the armor, yeah, Jak can get out of it relatively easy, though most of the time in the story he will be wearing it. And as far as the power you suggested, that will actually be a Dragoon (Blue Eco user) ability called Avatar, though only the masters will be able to use it. As for my replying to the reviewers, you guys are the only reason this story has gotten as far as it has. You've provided me with countless ideas, and I only think it is fair that I answer your questions in return. Plus, the reviews make me happy that people like what I'm doing…I swear, there are times when I think writing is the only thing I can do worth a flip. Sorry, ranting again. At any rate, hope you like what I continue to put out, and let me know if I start to slip up.

**Frozen Tear Drop- **Yeah, the armor will morph like that and such, and as for the helmet, like I said I'm not sure about its shape, but some of the H.U.D. will not function while Kage's out and about, but most of it will still be present. That said, I hope that you continue to enjoy the story, and let me know if you have any other questions, and I shall try to answer them to the best of my ability.

**Every Heart Bleeds- **Tis only fair and honorable that I respond to my reviewers, as they have given me so many ideas to work with, as well as advice and encouragement. As for my age, I'm 19, so I find it rather strange about myself that I'm writing about a video game…must be my childhood that was viciously suppressed by spending every available moment with my nose in my schoolbooks trying to get ahead finally reemerging. Thanks for the encouragement, and if you have any ideas, please let me know about them.

**SRHumphrey727- **Sorry to have confused you, let me know where I lost you and I'll try to explain, kay? As for Jak X, no, I haven't played it, as between writing and school, I haven't really had the time to do so. Hope you like this chapter, and that I may continue to please. (bows)

**dude- **Glad that you liked the armor, as for the crystals, I really don't think that they're going to run out any time soon, and least not within the length of the story. I hope that you find this chapter to be just as enjoyable, and please let me know if there's anything that you would like to see happen.

**DarkStarPhoenix- **Whoopsie, forgot to mention that there was room in the helmet for his ears…now I really feel sheepish…As for the Channeling powers, no, I decided to ditch that idea, figuring that the armor was powerful enough on its own. As for Kerrog, yeah, he's going to die, but if all goes according to plan, there won't be a whole lot of cheering when it happens, as the whole Precursor/Fallen Precursor thing is going to be something of a tragedy on a grand scale, sorta in the nature to what happened in Revenge of the Sith. Glad you've been liking the chapters, and I hope you did well on your exams.

**Hybrid- **Yeah, I sorta left out the details of the mating process for similar reasons, lets just say there was a good deal of technology involved. As for the younger Precursors, the older ones (about age fifteen and up) are being flashed trained and basically given crash courses in basic combat training. The younger ones will simply hang around the background, and be what everyone else is trying to keep out of harms way. As for Daxter's powers, I haven't really decided, but I'm thinking right before they storm the Day Star to try and blow it up.

**Xazz- **Yeah, I'll be the first to admit, Mar's Armor left me less than impressed, I mean, it looked like a prop from Scorpion King, for Pete's sake! At any rate, the bad guys will be able to kick copious amounts of but, as will be revealed at the beginning of this chapter, and the beginning of the next, when the Death Bot 'hero' units are unveiled. Will try to read your story soon, as with my vacation approaching, my teacher's have decided that Monday and Tuesday shall be exam day…joy… At any rate, I hope that this chapter pleases you, as I go into Keira's past for a bit, before everything gets FUBARed.

**Some Random Fanboy- **Glad you like Tarath and the AU elements, but I think that if this had been the plot, that sales would have been abysmal, I just tend to have that sort of effect upon things…Valthos, Keira and the others will have reactions of surprise, and Veger's will be one normally associated with either pant's soiling or a near death experience. Hope you like the chapter, and thanks for the vote of confidence. (bows)

**Crazed Demon- **Yeah, the enemies will be powerful, very powerful (Tarath's flashbacks will reveal just how dangerous a Precursor in battle form can be. Also, one cannot forget that in this story, Errol is pretty much a carbon copy of Jak as far as abilities are concerned, so that should make their final scrap a little more interesting, as he will actually be out fighting, rather than crammed inside a cockpit of a Juggernaught.

**Beloved Rose- **No Light Jak in this story, that's where Keira comes in, she will be the Light Eco user of the tale. As far as you drawing Kage is concerned, I find the idea of a chibified version of him to be amusing, and if you need help, let me know and I'll send you the picture that originally gave me the idea for his appearance. Hope you find this chapter to your liking, and that you don't hate me for the ending…

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Tell me about it. I probably won't destroy the armor, but I know for a fact that Errol will have the same type of gear, though it will look different, not to mention the Precursors' themselves are going to be almost godly in their powers (as the Freedom Guard will find out the hard way) and the Death Bots and Metal Heads will have new badies in their ranks as well. I will try to be patient when waiting for your stories, but they are so good that sometimes it's hard to. That said, I hope you enjoy this chapter, in which Keira's past is beginning to be revealed.

**jaklover123- **Sorry to hear that your grounded, and I hope you get off restriction soon, that can be a bummer. As for the dreadlocks, I figured it was a way for Jak to sorta become a little closer to his Precursian heritage, as Tarath and the other warriors wear their hair styled like that. Seriously though, check the address out for the picture, he still looks pretty masculine with his hair styled like that. That said, I hope you find this chapter worth the wait.

**Up-High- **Yes, Keira is in this chapter, and she does her own butt whooping, and in the next one too. As for Dax, well, someone's gotta play slap stick until Veger gets put back into the picture. Actually, I'm thinking about having Daxter knock the crap outta Veger once the good Count is turned into an ottsel, what do you think?

**SilverEyes18- **Glad you liked the tweaked version of Mar's Armor that he got, as I always thought it a little strange that the gear he wore should have had a few special fetuares. (I mean when you're fighting the things he did, it just makes sense that it would be a little more cutting edge, if you know what I mean) Glad that you've liked the story so far, and I hope that I continue to please.

To those of you who read but did not review, I hope that you have found my meager works to be to your liking thus far, and that you do not suffer any fits of insanity or mental scarring upon reading this chapter

Lawyers; If you don't know the drill by now, then you are typical of your profession. I own nothing save for my own creations, so leave me in peace.

That said, here is chapter seven.

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* * *

Where It All Goes Wrong.

Fires raged and burned, while smoke filled the air, choking her. Even above the roar of the infernos that crackled, she could hear the screaming of men as they died horrible deaths, screams that she realized on some instinctive level would keep sleep at bay for many long nights. The sounds were further diversified by shrieks and roars that could not have come from anything remotely elven.

She stumbled and nearly fell, being saved only by a rough hand that quickly reached out and grabbed her. She looked up, and saw a large, burly elf, who quickly picked her up and carried her away from the flames that threatened to consume everything. She stared into his brown eyes, reddened and bloodshot from the intense heat, his black hair matted to his face by the sweat that was running down it.

The next thing that she was aware of was of the ground rushing by as her mysterious rescuer carried her away in one arm, a broadsword held out to try and ward any of the demons to keep their distance.

Unfortunately, the monsters were not so easily deterred, and one that ran about on four legs leaped them. She shrieked, and buried her face into the chest of the man carrying her. She heard him snarl in rage, and there was a wet 'thocking' sound a moment later. Daring to turn her head, she saw the creature, now missing its head, twitching and flopping about on the ground.

The elf carrying her whispered something into her ear, something she couldn't make out, but the softness of his voice reassured her that everything was going to be okay.

Fate, however, seemed to be unusually vindictive that day. Her reasoning for this was what happened a few minutes later, as they reached what almost appeared to be some sort of parade ground or courtyard. Her unnamed savior panted for breath, staring about, as if looking for someone or something.

Whatever he was looking for probably wasn't what they found, which was a creature straight out of a nightmare that advertised its presence a moment later with a horrific entrance. One of the walls of this strange place suddenly crumbled as a pair of elves, their bodies broken and lifeless as rag dolls, came flying through it. They hit the ground and rolled to a stop, causing a whimper of fear to come from her throat.

What had done that to them came through a moment later, smashing the wall down. It was indeed a creature that would have caused courage to desert most men, and she felt the heartbeat and breathing of the man carrying her increase as he stared at the demon.

It walked upon four legs, each of them having three clawed toes. A reptilian tail swished back and forth behind it, melting into the body, which in turn became something humanoid in appearance, at least up until the head region, which possessed a crocodilian visage, making the creature resemble some sort of draconic centaur. Battle armored, it looked about, and spotted them, and a grin made its way across its face, revealing its dagger like teeth. It spread its arms wide, and firelight reflected off of its weapon, which was a large scythe, held easily in one hand, with a chain connected at the base that lead out to a spiked morning star.

The elf holding her muttered an obscenity, knowing that this foe was beyond him. The creature began to charge, moving far faster than it should have for something of its size, barreling towards them like the nightmare that it was.

However, seconds before it would have reached them, something happened. First, an arrow streaked in out of nowhere, its black head glistening, indicating that it had been laced with something. The barb the hit monster in a place where its armor didn't cover it, causing it to growl, but not stop its charge. However, it was stopped a moment later when a burst of yellow energy slammed into it with enough force to blow it off of its feet.

Both she and the man carrying her looked back up, and saw a pair of elves standing on what used to be a battlement. The male was armed with a longbow, and was already drawing another arrow. The female, clad in light plate armor, hoisted a spear, and with a blue glow outlining her body, leapt, landing next to them.

"My lady," the man began, bowing as best he could with her in his arms, "it is good to see you alive, and your husband as well. We have to leave…" continued, before the female elf silenced him with a look.

"No, Rainer," she said, shaking her head, "you have to take Keira and get out of here."

"But…" the elf started, only to be cut off by a growl as the demon got back up to its feet.

"Go!" the lady screamed, twisting, and it was only now that Keira could see a river of darkened blood covering the side of her armor. "Palar and I will hold this devil!"

The man snapped into action, fleeing as she leapt back at the creature, joined a moment later by more arrows as the man on the battlement fired.

After that, everything was a blur, chaos, screaming, roars and battle cries.

* * *

She bolted up, screaming and panting, her eyes open but unseeing.

"Easy Keira, it was just a nightmare." Came a voice, and she looked over to find her father.

"It was the same one again." The aqua haired elf muttered as her adrenaline began to fade.

"I see." Samos responded, a frown upon his face.

A few moments passed, before Keira's mind turned to other things. Her father had been living in her home, as his place had been in the palace, which was nothing more than smoldering debris at the moment. Truthfully, she thought, as she stared over to the empty place in her bed, where her soul mate should have lain, it was some comfort to have her old man around, now that Jak was gone. Still, it didn't ease the pain she felt about the dark elf, wishing that he was here.

"He'll be alright, Keira." Samos said in a gentle manner as he reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He's a survivor, and it'll take a lot more than a desert to kill him."

The aqua haired elf nodded in response. Deep down, she knew that her father cared for Jak almost as if he were his own son, no doubt from having watched over him for so long when he'd been running around this city in his youth. She sighed softly, as she was still having trouble still getting use to the fact that her soul mate wasn't even from the same time as her.

"Hurry up and get dressed." her father called as he suddenly retreated out of her room above her garage. "Ashelin has called an emergency meeting."

The mechanic/weapons engineer groaned as she got out of bed and proceeded to do so, looking over to the empty spot where Jak should have been, would have been if it weren't for the Council. More than once, she'd been tempted to take up stake outside the new headquarters where Count Veger and his cronies met, and introduce him to her magnetically accelerated sniper rifle. However, while she was no stranger to killing, she just couldn't find it within herself to gun a man in cold blood, no matter how much he might have deserved it.

So she was simply stuck here, fighting the good fight until Jak managed to find some way to return from his exile, as she hoped he soon would. Whether or not Count Veger and his 'friends' wished to admit it, they needed Jak, and without him, things were starting to look pretty grim.

It had only been about two and a half weeks since his banishment, but already the effects of it were showing. The first of these signs had been the riots that had occurred after the public had found out about what had become of the Ascended Channeler. It had been a clean split, with half of them basically exclaiming that they'd never have to worry about the 'monster' again, and the other half screaming for the blood of the Council members and some going as far as threatening a massive overthrow of the government. Naturally, the two had clashed, and the military had reluctantly broke them apart, as the overwhelming majority of the Freedom Guard had wanted to join in with her husband's supporters.

Obviously, all of this infighting hadn't helped one single bit in the war effort, and the Metal Heads and the mechanized soldiers had been quick to capitalize on it.

She wondered where those accursed machines were coming from as she finished dressing and headed outside, stopping long enough to grab one of her morph guns. Some of them were the same 'roller' types that Praxis had been experimenting with while he had been alive, thinking to use them to supplement the Krimzon Guard in the event of another attack upon Metal Head turf. But now, there were new kinds in addition to those.

A small, four legged crawling type appropriately nicknamed a 'Spider' by the ground troops served as an ankle biter and as a saboteur, and some newer models were even being equipped with some nasty self destruct mechanisms. Another one, simply known as a Hawk because of their aerial nature, was used as scout and a fast attack unit. They weren't sturdy, but they were able to practically turn on a dime, and could be very difficult to hit at a distance.

Then there were the Blast Bots, so named because they were literally mechanized tanks, stomping about on four legs almost like a super sized version of a Spider. However, they were only similar in their appearance, as the Blast Bots could inflict significantly more damage than even four dozen of their smaller cousins. Fortunately, they were large and slow, and their armor, while very protective against anti-infantry weapons, usually couldn't put up with more than a few shots from a fuel rod cannon.

And there were thousands of them, which led right back to her original train of thought, where were they all coming from? Granted, now that they had captured the Industrial District, some of the factories there had been converted into production plants, but they had not been their place of origins.

She supposed, as she clambered into a F.G. transport ship, that that would have to be a mystery saved for after they had beaten the clankers back and taken care of the Metal Heads as well.

All the while, Samos was somewhat distracted by his own thoughts. Keira remembered enough of her nightmare to tell him what it was about, and he knew that she was finally beginning to remember bits and pieces of her life before she'd come to Sandover. He turned the thoughts over in his head, wondering what he should do, when would be the best time to tell her what little he knew of her original life, and he couldn't help but feel some anxiety about what her reaction would be. After all, while not exactly what one could term grade-A family man material, it had been a joy to his heart to be a father, and he wondered how the knowledge of the past might change that.

* * *

The lift ground to a halt at the war room of the new command center, and as the door opened, the aqua haired elf saw Ashelin, Torn and the other Revenants fully decked out in their Katarn Mark II battle armor, Tess and a few others standing over a holographic map of the city, discussing various stratagems and the like. Brutter was also there, the Lurker sporting his combat armor with his spear strapped to the back, his large gold eyes also gazing at the holo-map.

"So, what's up?" Keira inquired of the Haven City Governess as she and her father stepped off the lift.

"We're gearing up for an assault." Torn answered for her. "Count Veger and the rest of the Grand Council have decided that we've been on the retreat for too long, and they've drawn up a battle plan that's to be implemented in three hours time."

"Wait a minute here," the aqua haired elf exclaimed, hoping, nay, praying that her ears had heard wrong, "you're telling me that Veger and company _planned_ the counter assault?"

"Counter assaults, unfortunately." Came the voice of General Ryan Toshiro.

Despite his initial uneasiness about being promoted to the head officer in the Freedom Guard, considering his high ranking in the outfit under Praxis' rule, he had adapted well, and had come to be a man that his men respected. Trained as a marksman, he had taken a note out of the late Baron's book: he led from the front lines, as soldiers tended to fight harder if they knew that their commander was right next to them, slugging through the same stuff that they were.

"Counter assaults?" Keira echoed, her voice now very full of concern as a frown crossed her face.

"Yes." Ashelin growled, her voice full of quiet anger. "The Grand Council has decided that we should attack all three of the occupied areas at once in a classical textbook assault."

"Two things." The aqua haired elf said as she counted off on her hand. "First, do we even have the manpower for an attack like that, and secondly, haven't they noticed that the tinnies seem to know our textbooks back to front?"

"Oh," came the voice of Jinx, who seemed to be stuffing his supply belt with charges, "we've got enough men, at least in theory, for their estimated forces. As for their inexplicable knowledge of our tactics…well…you know how those politicians hate to be told that they're wrong about something."

"Don't remind me." Toshiro moaned, shaking his head. "I'm the man leading us straight into the heart of the Industrial District, and I don't even want to think about what the causalities are going to be like."

"I'll assume you're going to want me to help out?" she inquired of the Governess, carefully watching her friend's reaction.

"Yeah," Ashelin said with a nod of her head before turning to face the Revenants, "Torn, take her and Tess to the armory and get them suited up."

"Yes ma'am." He said with a sharp salute, before motioning for the two other elves to follow him and Jinx, causing Keira and Tess to exchange uncertain glances with each other as they accompanied him.

* * *

"Remind me again," Keira stated as she attempted to get use to the H.U.D. on her new helmet, "why did you suit me and Tess up like this?"

The two of them had been virtually encased in Katarn armor, and it was something neither understood, as the ferrosteel covered suits were reserved for the Revenants, the reason for that mainly being due to the insane costs of each of the sets of protective gear, which was a five figure sum. At that kind of price, it made little sense to give it to anyone but the best of the best, as the odds were that they would live the longest in a scrap and thus, be able to make the best use of it.

"Because," Torn said with a grunt as he finished the adjustments to Tess' gear, "you're coming into the Harbor Sector with us, and that means we're going to have to duke it out with both Metal Heads and Death Bots."

"Which means that if anything happens to you," Jinx picked up, grabbing a few more explosives for himself in the process, "when your Prince Charming gets back from working on his tan, that tall, dark, and destructive will have our asses on the barbeque and a few more body parts to boot."

"But we're not Revenants." Tess pointed out as she twisted slightly, trying to figure out just how much she could move in the equipment.

"Then let me say, on behalf of the rest of our brothers and sisters," Torn cut in with genuine comradery in his voice, "welcome to the family. Now grab whatever else you might need and meet us back at the war room."

With that, he and his brother in arms left, leaving Tess and Keira to once again look at each other, and simply shrug before heading over to a weapons rack.

* * *

They were now in route to their insertion points, onboard a blue colored drop ship in a fleet of hundreds of others that would be working in tandem with the ones that would be assaulting via the Harbor Sector entrance. The plan was relatively simple, storm in, overwhelm the enemy, and be through in time for the evening meal.

However, nobody who was going to be ground pounding was expecting it to go quite that smoothly, and they were all wondering who would simply live to see the evening meal.

After all, a wise man once said that no plan survived contact with the enemy.

Keira worried most for Toshiro, his men, and the squadron of Revenants that were accompanying them. After all, Metal Heads could be demoralized, could have their will to fight be broken, but the mechanized soldiers that the elven general and his forces would be up against were not programmed to know fear, could not be intimidated, and knew nothing of pity, or mercy. They were also completely egoless, and would go to any lengths to destroy their foes, even if that meant blowing themselves up in the process.

She looked down at her shoulder, at the emblem of the Revenants emblazoned upon it, a suit of armor with a flaming sword and cloak, its eye slits shinning blue against the gray, much like hers was doing now. Beneath it was a two digit number, twenty nine, her call sign on the battlefield. Tess' was fifty four, while Torn and Jinx had opted to keep their original numbers from the Delta Squads, forty two and sixty seven respectively.

She often wondered how they felt, being the last of the originals, the only survivors from that close knit family they had been before Praxis' coup. She'd never really asked them about it, out of respect, but she knew that she had quite a legacy to live up to, and she was determined to make those that had come before her proud.

"Twenty five seconds till commencement of operation." Ashelin's voice echoed over the comm. line that all of them had.

The aqua haired elf checked her gear one last time. Her gauntlet mounted vibro blade and her grappling hook were good to go, and the H.U.D. was displaying a properly operating active camouflage generator. Her morph gun was in its usual immaculate condition, with its customary rifle, submachine gun, sniper mod, and RPG launcher loaded into it. Plus, anyone looking at her would have noticed a second gun that she had strapped over her other shoulder, a weapon that she planned on testing out on the Death Bots later on, complemented by a bandolier of power packs specially designed for it.

There was also a double belt of grenades that she had on her waist. Four of them were the traditional 'sticky' plasmite ones that the army had been using for about a good fifteen years now, while the other four was something she herself had recently come out with, a sonic grenade. The weapon operated along the same principle as the sound blade generated by the green crystal in her left gauntlet, only this time, the power current put through the crystal housed inside of each one of the metal cases was enough to cause it to become unstable. The result was when it exploded, that it generated a 'sphere' of high energy sound waves that completely ignored armor and would, in theory, turn a Metal Head's bones into dust. They'd done similar tests against the remains of Death Bots, and found the results of these ones to be far more effective than plasmite, but the older type had its uses, such as causing panic amongst living targets, a blast radius almost half again as large, and the fact that the sonic ones couldn't stick to a target.

"Five seconds out," Jinx said, looking at the synchronized clock on his H.U.D., "if anyone is on goods terms with the powers above, I suggest you start calling in favors."

The aqua haired elf muttered a small prayer, and then clicked her safety off, preparing herself for the rush into the Harbor Sector.

Then, the rear hatch opened, and Torn and Jinx led the charge out to reclaim their city. Keira jumped out about half a second later, with Tess coming in right behind her. All over the Harbor, drop ships were touching down and blue armored Freedom Guards were storming out, their guns up at ready. They were soon joined by people streaming in from the primary entrance, back up by a handful of Scorpion M808 assault tanks and several dozen Hellcat cruisers, along with a few recently manufactured light assault craft that were similar to the ones Torn and the Underground had used in their raids on the Baron's convoys.

Naturally, and assault of that size would quickly be noticed by the invaders, and it was less than a minute later that the first shots were being exchanged. Keira and the others were headed for the western end of the harbor, which meant that they would be engaging the Metal Heads rather than the Death Bots, the idea being to secure one front before turning and facing what was believed to be the greater threat.

Her morph gun set to its battle rifle mode, she quickly spotted a potential target, a Wasp that was clinging to the side of a building, using its perch to fire its wrist mounted blaster down at the encroaching elven army. Her combat instincts kicked in, and she swiftly sighted the monster up, before squeezing the trigger and letting fly a four shot burst. The Eco bolts hit the Wasp dead on, and it fell to the ground with a screech, twitching as it died.

Not pausing for a single instant, she quickly looked around for the next foe, and settled on a Grunt that was tearing its way down from some debris. She squeezed the trigger again, catching it through its head and killing it almost instantly.

One of its comrades chose that moment to stick its head from behind the same pile of rubble, and quickly found itself relieved of that rather vital body organ. She smiled grimly as she watched the headless corpse tumble from its perch, before looking around for more.

However, while the initial response of the Metal Heads was somewhat haphazard, it only took a few minutes for the Crab Head commanders to get their troopers under control, and before they knew it, they were having stiff resistance thrown their way.

One of the large leader types stormed around a corner with its squad, and barked out some orders in its native tongue while laying down fire upon the Freedom Guard members with its twin blasters. Cover was immediately sought by the elves, but about five troopers were cut down before they could get out of the way, and with another order, the beast and those under its command began to move forward. The Grunts and the quadrapedal Drones were dealt with swiftly enough, thanks to the combined submachine gun fire of the elves, but the Crab Head itself, and the five shield carrying Centurions under its authority would prove considerably more difficult.

The latter subspecies had their backs to the rubble of a building and had interlocked their energy shields, making them extremely difficult to hit while they returned fire with their pistol like blasters. Keira was quick to realize this, and she dove behind a crate as they turned their attention towards her.

Coming up out of her roll, she hunkered down behind the crate and ripped the clip from her morph gun, before thumbing a switch. There was a whirring sound, and the rifle transformed itself into a plasmite grenade launcher, and she then quickly loaded three shots into the revolver styled clip firing chambers.

The Centurions, whose attention was occupied by a group of Freedom Guard regulars laying down fire upon them, literally never knew what hit them as a pair of rocket propelled grenade slammed into their midst, and the subsequent fireballs utterly consumed them, except for a few mangled odds and ends that were sent flying outward. The aqua haired elf then adjusted her aim, firing off the last round that she had loaded at the very instant that the Crab Head had figured out where the blasts had come from.

The monster's eyes bugged out in surprise as the shot headed right for it, and as it opened its mouth to scream in defiance, its jaws were spaced apart just enough for the RPG to nestle its way inside. For some grimly comical reason, the grenade failed to detonate immediately, and the Metal Head commander had about half a second to realize what was about to happen before the thing went off in its jaws, virtually tearing its body apart when it did detonate.

"Keep moving forward!" Torn shouted over the comm., and the troops made haste to obey their commander's order.

However, the going was difficult, as the Metal Heads had a very strong defensive networking going at the moment, with overlapping fields of fire coming down from wasps skittering about through the air, while Centurions and Crab Heads laid down fire upon them from ground level, and the Grunts and Drones rushed at those who were unfortunate enough to be pinned down.

Keira supposed she should be grateful though. After all, none of the more dangerous species had shown up yet, and she couldn't help but wonder where the Guardians were hiding at. She knew that they weren't engaged yet, as it was hard to miss something of their size, not to mention the fact that there would been a gruesome harmony of swears and death cries echoing over the communication frequencies if they were spitting Dark Eco down upon them.

And for some inexplicable reason, that made her more than a little uneasy.

Still, as she changed her morph gun back into its rifle mode, she tried to force the thought from her mind and concentrate on what she could control, rather than what was beyond it.

Off to her side, Jinx's line of thinking had been much the same. The Revenant was even more unnerved by the lack of heavy firepower on the part of the Hora-quan. After all, he'd been fighting the beasts for the entirety of his military career, and being a member of a special covert ops group as he was, he often tangoed with them more on a single mission than most regulars did in an entire tour of duty, and while the creatures were certainly not just laying down and letting the Freedom Guard forces shoot them, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were holding back.

Still, he nonetheless pressed onward, using his twin submachine guns to deadly effect upon the Metal Heads, the fast firing blasters chewing through the Grunts and Drones that charged him like they were nothing.

A staccato crackling of BR-55 rifle fire reached his ears, and he looked over, and he saw a squadron of blue armored soldiers pinned down by vicious suppression fire coming from a Crab Head and some Centurions. He went to holster one of his guns, as they lacked the penetration capabilities needed to take one of those four legged demons down efficiently and were completely ineffective against the energy shields of the Centurions, and went to draw a grenade. However, before he could do so, there was a distinctive whining sound coming from behind them, and a literal river of Eco bolts tore into the creatures, rending armor, shields, flesh and bone alike before they even had a chance to react to the sudden turn of events.

A smile appeared on his hidden face as Grim and Mog charged into battle, the latter of the two siblings carrying a newly made vulcan, which had been responsible for the carnage he had just witnessed. He threw them a salute, which they apparently saw, before he hurried to catch back up with Torn and the others.

However, what he got was a Grunt leaping at him at top speed. Knowing that his weapons wouldn't bring it down in time, he opted for a different tactic, throwing the DC-17 Special Forces blaster in his left hand up into the air, balling up his fist, and putting his hand at a certain angle. He could see the Metal Head's eyes widen in surprise as the eight inch long crystalline shard leapt out of his forearm protection, and the distorted sound blade formed around it. With a feral yell, Revenant Sixty Seven thrust his vibro blade forward, catching the fiend right in its mouth, before driving it upwards into the creature's brain, slaying it almost instantly.

He withdrew the melee weapon, let it retract, and still had enough time to catch his gun out of the air and start sprinting forward once again.

The pyromaniac crested a mound that had once been a warehouse storage facility, and saw the battle raging down below, with his three comrades fully involved in the conflict. Not wishing to be left out of a perfectly good fight, Jinx was quick to slide down into the fray, and both of his blasters were soon ripping into the Metal Head ranks.

As he caught up to the others, though, he was suddenly knocked to his side, and he had to choke back a growl of pain as he felt what almost seemed to be a superheated sledgehammer hit him on his shoulder.

Fortunately, his Katarn battle armor held up, and the only thing he had to show for the attack was a blackened bit of carbon scoring on the plating. It also didn't take him long to figure out that it had been a Centurion that had taken a pot shot at him, and he scolded himself for being so sloppy. However, the self condemning berating lasted about a tenth of a second, and after that, he reached into his belt, and drew a grenade, before priming and throwing it at the Hora-quan.

He didn't realize until he had sent the explosive on its merry little way that he had hurled one of the new sonic grenades, and as he got back up, he saw first hand what the little things could do.

It hit at the Centurion's feet, where it sat for about two seconds before detonating. Rather than the obscuring, blue-white flash of a plasmite grenade, though, what he saw instead was a sphere of distorted air surging outwards from where the device had been. The avian faced Metal Head raised its shield, but that did nothing to ward the coming blow. The distortions passed over the creature, and a chilling scream echoed throughout the area as it seemed to collapse inward upon itself, as the ultrasonic sound waves ruptured blood vessels, caused vital organs to explode, and turned bones into dust.

The thing collapsed into a pile of jelly like goop, and Jynx was momentarily taken aback by what he had just unleashed.

"Nasty little things." The gray armored warrior muttered, shaking his head before returning his attention back to the battle, turning his two guns upon a hapless Grunt and opening fire on it.

* * *

Meanwhile, Ashelin was staring at a master control screen from the command room of the Freedom Guard Headquarters, watching the battle progress. Veger and his cronies were immensely pleased with themselves thus far as everything was going pretty smoothly. However, while the good Count and his fellows might have been wearing smiles that reeked of arrogance, the Governess of Haven City felt uneasy. The Harbor Sector was the only place where the Freedom Guard was running into what might even amount to fairly heavy resistance, and that just didn't make sense. In the West Side, the Metal Heads were retreating on all fronts before the elven onslaught, and it seemed too early for them to do so, as she knew they couldn't have been suffering devastating losses this early in the game.

It was much the same from the Industrial Sector, which really had her puzzled, as it almost appeared as if Toshiro and his troops were encountering little more than token opposition to their advances.

"Keep your eyes sharp, boys," she ordered into a headset that she was wearing, "I've got the feeling that something's up."

"You're not alone there." General Toshiro responded as he destroyed a Roller Bot with a well placed sniper shot, before looking at a small vid-screen of the red haired elf that was on his visor's H.U.D.. "These machines have fought tooth and nail for every inch of ground before, and now they're just letting us roll over them."

He then relayed the order on to the men and women under his command, praying that the bad feeling in his gut was just nerves and not foreshadowing of something more.

The elven general, clad in black armor, kept up his pace in the front lines, reducing several of the machines to scrap with his sniper rifle. However that gnawing feeling in his gut simply wouldn't leave, and he tried to figure out what it was.

First, there was almost no resistance to their attack thus far, and they had already managed to retake about half of the Industrial District according to the map on his H.U.D.

Secondly, up to this point in time they had only encountered the smaller droids, there was nary a Blast Bot to be seen.

After about another minute of pondering the subject and staring at the progress of his soldiers, Toshiro felt the answer hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Oh my god…" he trailed off, before snapping into action. "Governess!" he called into his helmet mounted boom-mike. "Get on the line to the others, have them pull everyone back immediately, we're walking right into a trap!"

The daughter of Praxis reached a similar conclusion at about the same time, and was already screaming orders out to the other commanders, calling for them to retreat. Unfortunately, Count Veger and the Grand Council tried to overrule her, and the chaos that resulted from conflicting orders was the final nail in the coffin.

* * *

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Let the Cliffhangers commence, and I think I should now pray that I am not torn to pieces by people upset by the ending. Rest assured, chapter eight will deal with just how badly things go south.

Also, if some are you are curious as to why I put an OC in charge of the Freedom Guard instead of Torn, suffice to say that Toshiro is an infantry man, schooled in how to command and maneuver large armies, while Torn, who is a much better soldier than Toshiro, is trained for Spec Ops and tactics the revolve around small squads and groups no larger than twenty or so.

On another note, if anyone is familiar with Shadow Run, I need some advice on how Matrix battles take place, as there will be a scrap similar to those between Vin, yes Vin, and another A.I. construct, and I would be very grateful for details about how those are done.

To that degree, if there are any other ideas, advice, constructive criticism, flames, or the like that you wish to say, please let me know. That said, I hope you have a great week and I hope to see you next time.

Until then, this is Red Mage 04, signing off.


	8. A Dark Day Indeed

Hello to everyone, and I do hope that you are enjoying yourselves on Black Friday and that you have had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Now, hopefully for your reading pleasure, I give you this chapter, one of the largest I have written to date. To that end, I warn you in advance, I've been doing some scrambling with this one, and have been making much use of the cut and paste technique, as I was having trouble deciding what should happen when. Because of this, I fear I might have made something very screwy, despite my attempts to catch anything, and the best efforts of my beta reader to catch my many errors. TO that end, if you spot something that doesn't make sense, reference to something that has happened before it was supposed to, etc, etc, please notify me IMMEDIATELY, so that I can fix it. Thank you very much.

On another note, I think I confused people with the last request that I made, and to clarify, Shadowrun is a pen and paper RPG, much like Dungeons and Dragons, except set in the future. The Matrix is the computer world of this realm, and it is actually where the idea of the movies came from, in which the 'Deckers' plug themselves in, and then proceed to hack into various mainframes. Because of the nature of this world, a computer A.I. such as Vin, is the literal equivalent of a god, thus his fight scene is going to be pretty out there, if I can pull it off. (crosses fingers and mutters a quick prayer)

Now, to those of you who were so kind and reviewed.

**Philoworm- **ZOE is Zone of the Enders, a sorta mech combat meets dragonball Z type game. You should try both of them, as they are pretty good, and Anubis, the main enemy, lives up to his namesake. As for the cliffe, I hope that this has proven to be worth the wait, so let me know what you think.

**Air of Mystery- **Yeah, well the strategist of the bad guys will be kinda revealed towards the end of this chapter, and maybe that will explain why the elves got duped so badly. Thanks for the grenade ideas, and as far as Keira is concerned, that's kinda how she's going to get her abilities, but I think she's still going to be heading out to the Wasteland, as that's where she's going to meet Tarath and get her own Precursor forged gear. That said, hope you enjoy the chapter, in all its killing and mayhem.

**MariaShadow- **Not sure what you mean by redshirt, but if you like Toshiro, you're not going to like me after all is said and done. As for Keira's heritage, expect a part of it to show up again in this chapter. Hope you like it

**Lunatic Pandora1- **Errrm, I'm not sure on the causality count as of yet, but lets just say it's going to be rather high.

**Wizard Surreal- **Thanks for the idea, I think there will be something similar to that happen, and I think I also know how to get Keira her gear, thanks. As for reviews, yah, I know the feeling pretty well myself, I've submitted quite a few that only later I read and saw that I had left out one letter to word that changed the whole meaning of the review. Once again, sorry I couldn't get you the pictures (glares at computer) and I hope that this chapter has been worth the wait.

**William- **Yeah, Keira will be getting some Light Eco powers, but it will be a few chapters before that happens. Hopefully, I'll be able to make it happen in a semi-realistic manner. (crosses fingers)

**Evil Manic- **Yeah, but do not worry, once the Jak returns, they will get what's coming to them. As for Keira's powers, she'll be getting quite few in addition to the ones from the game. That said, hope you enjoy the massacre in progress that's about to unfold.

**Meowen- **Yeah, Ashelin doesn't usually get a whole lot of screen time, probably cause so many people hated her after that bit of fanboy crap thrown into the third ending. (glares at ND) and yeah, sonic grenades are nasty little things, expect to see much use of them in chapters to come.

**Some Random Fanboy- **Yeah, Keira will get her own unique weapon and armor from Tarath, and when Jak meets Veger again in chapter ten, he will scare the piss out of him, literally. But as to your first question, no Keira will not receive a split personality, mostly because I couldn't think of one, and I think I've got enough OCs running around at the moment (as I've got to think up a load of supporting cast Precursors that I will then kill off in a horrid fashion). That said, hope you enjoy.

**jaklover123- **Yeah, I've always been a little curious about Samos' past, and I will go into a little bit of detail regarding it. As to his knowledge of the future, I think its probably cause he was there as his younger self in the second game, so he already knew what was going to happen. So, I hope you enjoy this ten or so thousand word chapter, and that the wait has been worth it.

**Every Heart Bleeds- **Thanks for the vote of confidence in both my skill and the whole Vin fighting deal. Wish me luck, and please let me know if you have any ideas you'd like to see in the story.

**Crazed Demon- **Yeah, I think I might be making Veger even more despised than he was in the game, assuming that's possible. Unfortunately, Veger will survive, though he will likely wind up being 'drafted' into the Precursor army and wind up making a fool of himself yet one more time.

**Xazz- **Yeah, I can relate about the math classes, those were always my weak points. Still, I think that I managed to survive the ordeals placed before me. Also, I hope the week long wait has been worth it, and please let me know what you think of the new Death Bot units to make their appearance here.

**Farr2rich- **You give me far too much credit, I never would have made it this far without the ideas that you and others have given for me to use. As to Keira's vision, that wasn't so much foresight as a traumatic flashback, which will return in a way to haunt somebody later. As to you Light Lightning idea, no Keira will not receive that, she will instead get an energy ray type attack. However, she is packing a weapon that causes and effect similar to that that I…um…borrowed from Star Wars. Best of luck to you in your own works, and I hope you like this installment.

**animedragongirl- **'Oh I have a bad feeling about this!" (have you noticed that line is in every one of the movies?) Glad to hear your nearly through with your activities, and I switched a couple of scenes up after sending you the chapter, so if I screwed something up, please let me know, kay? (bows) Also, hope to see more of prank wars soon enough, and thank you once again for taking the time to read my works over.

**YamiTenshi14- **Thanks for the idea, and I think I might throw a bit of grappling in there as Vin and the other A.I. attempt to delete each other. As for my skills, I think it cause I've read so many books by R.A. Salvatore and by Eric Nylund, who is the author of the Halo book series, all this makes me wonder if I shouldn't take classes and try to see fi I could maybe do this for real…

**Darth Tank- **Thanks for the vote of confidence, and I am glad I was able to please. As far as Seem is concerned, they never really cleared that up, but I recall an interview where a couple of the programmers referred to Seem as 'she' and 'her.' Nonetheless, it is a subject that is very much debatable. Other than that, I hope you enjoy what I continue to yank from the depths of my twisted mind.

**SRHumphrey727- **Thank you for not hurting me, as I am severally allergic to pain. As for Jak and Keira, give them a little while and they'll be back in each other's arms, and planning on how to retake the city. And yes, Vin is now a computer, and very, very powerful computer who will make his reappearance in this chapter.

**Exardas- **Yeah, things are about to head up crap creek for our heroes, and the cost will be high, as the Death Bots have some nasty tricks hidden up their metal sleeves.

**PrincessDarkFire- **Thanks for the advice, as there will be a lot of ranged combat when Vin and the other construct are duking it out in the Death Bot factory main frame. I am grateful for your encouragement and I hope that this new chapter has been worth the wait.

**nightwish635-** Glad that you liked everything I've managed to come up with so far, and I hope that I continue to prove worth the timeyou take out of you life to read this.

**Beloved Rose- **Sorry about the cliffe, and I'll try to send you that picture later today, as I have to go take care of some things after I update this tale. As for Daxter, yeah, he will kick butt, as one of the Fallen Precursor commanders will die by his hand, though which one I won't say. To that end, I hope you enjoy the slaughter house that Haven City is about to become.

**Anon- **I hope you and your siblings enjoyed the film, I heard it was pretty good. As for Keira and the others, no Epic Character ever made it to where he or she was without the help of the supporting cast, so they deserve there time to shine as well. As for Vin, yes, he and Sentinel will meet up near the end of the story. That said, hope you enjoy this.

**GoodMorningBeautiful2005- **Glad you liked chapter seven, and don't worry, there is Veger threatening in this chapter and there will be bashing in chapter ten, when Jak uses Mar's armor to scare him half to death and lose control of certain bodily functions. Hope you had a happy Thanksgiving too.

To everyone who read, but did not review, I hope that you liked the story so far, and that I haven't mangled anyone's mind beyond repair.

Lawyers: I no own, you no sue!

Now, red tape aside, here is chapter eight.

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A Dark Day Indeed

On a building top about half a kilometer from the fighting, a strange robot watched the battle unfold via a map system similar to what Toshiro had. It was running through its orders for the battle, as well as those of its two or so dozen comrades watching the clock wind down until the commencement of the counter assault.

One would immediately have been able to tell that this was no ordinary clanker, as it was very humanoid in its appearance, and about seven and a half feet in height. Its color scheme was the same as the normal Death Bots, but unlike them, it was bristling with enough weapons to have scared off any sane soldier. In its right hand it gripped a specially designed ASX-258 submachine gun that held a fifteen hundred round power pack and could be fired in five shot bursts or full auto, which when combined with its high end computer targeting system, made for an extremely lethal recipe. Attached to its left forearm was a strange, gray and red piece of machinery, which had a very nasty surprised stored inside of it. There were also the pentagon shaped missile launchers mounted on both shoulders, as well as a one hundred charge pulse cannon on the back of its right shoulder for dealing with more heavily armored targets.

However, its most dangerous weapon was its twelve shot, He-HP-697 grenade launcher on the left side of its back, a weapon so large that it was actually folded into two pieces when not in use and had such a kick that even it, a half a ton pile of metal and circuitry, had to fire it from a kneeling position to compensate for the recoil. It was to be implemented when it encountered vehicular resistance, or it had to absolutely make sure that every living thing in its targeting spectrum was not going to be getting back up.

It was the cutting edge, one of two types of command and control droids designed for one purpose, and one purpose only: penetrate and annihilate.

The clock reached zero just as it finished its third self diagnostics check.

_Commence operation 'Divide and Conquer.' _it "said" over a comm. line, its mechanized voice joining its comrades.

The elves, confused about the conflicting orders that they were receiving, were caught completely off guard as Death Bots suddenly began to storm out of buildings and rubble piles, opening fire upon them and killing hundreds before they could even figure out what was going on.

The command and control droid waited the ambush unfold for about half a second before activating one of its systems. Two sections just inside of the weapon placement positions, right where its collar bones would have been, had it been an organic life form, popped open. A part of engine like structures rose out of them, and red energy could be seen gathering up around them. At the same time, jet boosters set into its calves, lower back, and feet activated, picking it up into the air. About half a second later, the overdrive jets in its back finished charging, and the thing shot forward at over four hundred kilometers an hour, carrying it straight to the elven front lines.

Sergeant Benton Davis and his platoon were the first ones to encounter it. Still reeling from the ambush and attempting to get his troopers to cover, the Freedom Guard member realized instantly that this was no normal tinny they were facing, and shouted for his the men and women under his command to dive out of the way as it landed a few dozen yards away from them, leveling its primary weapon at the same time. They did so, and he and several others hurled plasmite grenades at the bot.

They landed next to it and detonated a few seconds later, filling the street with a deafening roar and a blinding flash, rattling the soldiers to their bones. However, when the blast cleared a couple of seconds later, it revealed the mechanical monstrosity to still be standing, and its red, visor type 'eye' flashed for a second.

_Systems diagnostic…damage to torso and leg armor, circuitry damage minimal…still capable of one hundred percent combat efficiency…initiating self repair systems._

_Analyzing enemy threat…_

_Thirty five targets confirmed…designated light infantry, threat to unit minimal…_

_Combat superiority index…two hundred fifty five percent…_

_Odds of victory…ninety five percent…_

_Initiating hard contact…attack protocol zero one seven two_

Those thoughts passed through the Death Bot's CPU in less than a tenth of a second, before it acquired a shooting solution and opened fire upon Benton and his platoon.

The first burst of fire hit a blue armored soldier dead in the chest, and the six shots tore through the protective gear and shredded the man's internal organs, killing him in seconds. As the thirty four remaining troopers leveled their own weapons and fired upon the machine, it jetted into the air, and squeezed the machinegun's trigger again. A feminine scream rang out as a girl dropped, blown in half at the waist as the machina soldier circled around from thirty feet up, raining death down upon them.

Six more dropped, their eyes staring into nothing, as the thing finally came back down, its primary weapon still firing at them, filling the air with blue tinted Eco bolts.

Needless to say, Benton was quick to understand the danger that he and the others were in, and signaled a retreat, while calling for air support at the same time. He and the warriors under his command quickly dashed back down the street, losing another man as they did so, his chest exploding outwards as a burst of energy connected with his back. A second later, the elven soldiers rounded a corner with the fearsome killing machine in hot pursuit.

They left a few more grenades in their wake, hoping that the explosives might slow the thing down long enough for a Hellcat cruiser to show up and save their bacon, but once again the explosives did little more than annoy the thing, if that. As they charged down the street, though, they took hope, as they saw more of their comrades fighting just ahead, and like an avenging angel, a gunship speeding towards them.

However, like a demon straight out of the hells, the blood colored machine rounded the corner a second later, and its computer brain assessed the new situation in a matter of milliseconds. It screeched to a halt, and went down on one knee as the Hellcat closed in on it. It was then that Benton and his men, watched, awestruck, as the massive cannon like gun on the back of the thing's left shoulder unfolded and clicked together.

The Hellcat's blaster cannons were just lining up a shot when it fired, and a yellow-white comet streaked towards the gunship, shrieking at such a rate that a harpy would have been envious of it. The men inside the cruiser had no time to react as it ripped through the canopy, smashed about a foot into the rear part of the cockpit, and then exploded.

Hope died as a fireball consumed the gunship, and it crashed to the ground in a flaming wreck. Paralyzed by a combination of fear and shock, Benton and his soldiers stood, their feet anchored to the ground as the seemingly unstoppable machine jetted through the burning remains, its overdrive boosters propelling it straight at the elves. The men and women in its path tried to get out of the way, having already had their fill of the walking death engine's firepower. However, a slight flick of its left arm, and it showed that death by gunfire was not in store for them, as two purplish 'energy claws' leapt from the gray device, glowing fiercely and promising a painful demise to any hit by them.

"Gause! Watch out!" Benton yelled, as he saw right who the bot was heading for.

The elf dove, but didn't get out of the way fast enough, and the Death Bot caught him in mid leap, cutting him in half at the waist as it shot by and killing him before he even had time to scream. Several more troopers were slain in this fashion, their final screams quickly silenced, before the thing finally shut its jet boosters down to let them cool. Unfortunately, that was little consolation to the sergeant, as his platoon numbers had effectively been reduced to half of its original fighting capability by this mechanical monstrosity in less than three minutes of fighting, and he didn't give good odds on the rest of them surviving much longer.

They began to retreat backwards once again, falling back to where their comrades were already engaged and trying to hold off the forces responsible for the ambush, praying that someone with a heavy enough weapon would be able to take this thing down.

It was then that the strangest thing happened. As the new Death Bot cut down four more of his fellows with its primary blaster, a trio of Spiders rushed out from some rubble. Benton swore and went to line them up before they could blow themselves up and wreak further havoc amongst them. However, before he could do so, they scampered towards the machina warrior that had been ripping them apart and jumped onto it, latching onto its arms and legs.

_Anomalism occurring…saboteur units malfunctioning, source of erroneous behavior protocols unknown…_

That was about as far as it got with its central processing before the three smaller bots exploded, consuming it in a massive fireball and bringing an end to its rampage.

However, Benton and the handful of remaining soldiers under his command could hardly take comfort in that fact, as they still needed to fight their way out of this mess, and who knew if there were more of those things lurking out there, just waiting to pounce upon them…

* * *

Ashelin tried not to let the despair that was sweeping over her show as she barked orders into the comm. set on her head, calling for the troops in all sectors to pull back. Count Veger and his cronies had finally allowed her to step in a try to salvage the mess they had succeeded in landing them in, but not before thousands had been killed.

Even worse, the situation was rapidly reaching a point of no return, as the Harbor Sector soldiers were apparently pinned down by extremely heavy resistance and couldn't abandon their positions to retreat back to the Residential Sector.

The West Side and the Industrial District were much the same, and the Governess of Haven City cursed herself for not seeing what was now so obvious.

The tactic that had been used was called a 'false retreat' and she'd seen it in action before. Basically, the force using it would put up a token resistance, and would soon begin to fall back, baiting their adversaries into following them, getting them to overextend their lines. Once the enemy was stretched thin enough, other units, lying in ambush, would enter the fight, and the confusion that resulted would seal the trap. Even worse were the reports filtering in from the Industrial Sector about these new Death Bot commander type units, and the footages she'd seen on the primary command screen, coming from the 'black box' type cameras that officers carried with them, were sobering indeed.

"Hurry up and get them out of there!" she shouted to one of the technicians operating a command console, and the techie hurried to try and obey the command, issuing orders and the like, but shaking his head all the while.

The daughter of Praxis looked up at the map of the city, and as she watched the number of soldiers dwindle, she knew that today would be a dark day in the history of her homeland.

* * *

First Lieutenant Cody Balic, Revenant Seventeen, poked his head around a corner, only to have to immediately draw it back as a barrage of Eco bolts threatened to take that rather vital part of his body off.

"Looks like the front door's locked down tight." He growled, frustration present in his New Zealander accent, looking back over to his squad. "Let's head out the back way, see if we can give that thing the slip."

The 'thing' that he was referring to was another one of the commander type bots, but it was a different type from the one that Benton and his platoon had encountered. While the other one might have been fast and agile, this one was slow and lumbering. However, while it apparently lacked the jet boosters of the smaller variety, its sheer ability to take punishment astounded the gray armored warrior, who had never seen anything like it before.

He shifted the fuel rod cannon on his back as he thought about it. He'd shot the thing with it, had scored a dead on bulls-eye on its chest, and it was still standing. He'd hit it with a weapon designed to stop a tank in its tracks, and still it came after them.

Reports were blaring through his internal comm. set, and that of his squad, nearly deafening him with the crisscrossing chatter. Still from what he was able to pick out and understand, these ambushes were happening all over the city, and as a result General Toshiro was calling for all troopers to pull back to the Residential Sectors. That made their object rather simple: fight their way through two kilometers of Death Bot infested territory to get back to where the extraction point was.

The elf sighed bitterly, wondering just how many had died for an offensive that had done straight down the toilet, and vowed that his brothers and sister with him here and now would not become a part of that statistic.

They reached the door, and Revenant Twenty One, Liz, the group's scout and sniper, stuck her head out, looking around carefully.

'Looks clear.' she flashed back to the rest of the group with a series of intricate hand signals.

'Move out, eyes open and fingers on your triggers!' Cody signed to them all, and they nodded before carrying out the order.

They were in the back streets of the sector now, and most of the fighting was a good distance away. As of right now, they planned to stick with these streets, and circumvent around the battle turned slaughterhouse, a route that while not exactly valorous, had the greatest chance of him getting his squad out in one piece.

However, their stealthy tactics were soon discovered, as a Hawk flew overhead, and noticed the four elven soldiers moving through the district. It radioed in their coordinates, before diving down to attack them.

However, before it could even get a shot off, there was a faint 'crack' and Liz's sniper rifle blew it apart. Unfortunately, they all knew that the jig was up, and it was time to run for their lives. That fact was accentuated a moment later when they heard the rhythmic stomping of the commander type bot closing in from the left.

Cody dove by an opening that led to the main streets, correctly guessing that was where the Death Bot would be coming from. He hucked a grenade in mid leap, knowing that it wouldn't do much more than mess up its color scheme, but hoping that it might disorient the thing just long enough for the others to get by. The tactic apparently worked, as they were able to slip by without that strange gun on its shoulder taking a crack at them. However, what they didn't realize was that it was attempting the old hammer and anvil upon them.

_Units gamma thirty two through fifty one, head to point zero, zero, six, ten, zero, and engage hostiles at that point._

At the same time, one of its comrades was reporting that it had stumbled upon a company of elven soldiers, and that it was currently in the process of dealing with them.

_Unit Omega Twelve initiating hard contact, commencing attack protocol two, zero, eight, five…enemy group consisting of twenty five standard infantry soldiers…estimated time to completion of objective…fifteen point oh four seconds._

_Roger, roger. _The unit acknowledged before stomping around the corner and unleashing its firepower upon the hapless Revenants.

The other Death Bot squad, consisting solely of Rollers, came around into position and unfurled themselves, opening fire upon the squad from the front as the massive commander unit closed in from behind.

Then something totally unexpected happened. Just as the commander bot was lining up a shot with the massive plasma cannon attached to its right wrist, another group of Rollers came from around another corner, where they promptly reared up into combat mode and started shooting.

However, what was so strange was that they were firing upon their own comrades, catching them from behind and blowing them to smithereens before their CPUs could even figure out what was going on. Without hesitation, the maverick units then turned upon the commander droid, their arm blasters providing enough of a distraction for a bewildered Cody and his fellows to make a break for it.

"Did anyone else find that a little strange?" Zack, the squad's hacker, inquired as they kept dashing through the backstreets of the Industrial District.

"Yeah," Cody conceded, "But I ain't about to start complaining. Now let's keep moving, if we can avoid confrontations, we might just be able to make it back to the evac point before these things push the rest of the army back and leave us trapped in here."

There was a chorus of 'Yes Sirs!' and they doubled their pace, knowing full well those strange rollers wouldn't be able to hold that commander type for very long.

What they didn't anticipate was a pair of missiles coming down almost mortar style and exploding in front of them. They dove about as the shrapnel went flying, some of it hissing unnervingly close to their heads as it sped past them. All four hit the ground rolling, coming up and finding themselves once more staring at the hulking battle droid, the missile launchers on its shoulders already reorienting themselves. It fired again, and the Revenant squadron scattered once again to avoid the attack, with swears and oaths abounding.

It was then that three proved to be someone's unlucky number, as a third missile volley smashed into one of the factories lining the backstreet, and the force of the blast was so great that part of it collapsed.

When the dust cleared, it revealed that everyone was still alive and breathing, but Cody was now separated from the rest of the squadron by a twenty foot high mound of the debris. Compounding the problem was the fact that his grappling hook had been damaged in the attack, leaving him unable to get back up with his unit. Furthermore, proving that trouble came in threes or multiples thereof, he was trapped in this area with that damnable machine, and it was quick to turn its weapons on him.

"Sir!" he heard Zack shout over the internal comm. system.

"Head for the evac point, guys, I'll be fine!" he growled back as he rolled out of the way of another volley of Eco bolts.

"But…" Liz trailed off.

"Go! That is an order!" he shouted back, emptying his last submachine gun clip into the Death Bot, with little damage being shown for the eighty odd rounds that had just impacted upon it.

His squad reluctantly did so, knowing that time was limited, and that they weren't able to help their squad leader from where they were at any rate.

Cody popped the clip out of his morph gun, before switching it over to an assault rifle mode, and slapping a fresh energy pack into it. He then leveled the gun, and opened fire, aiming for the Death Bot's head. The Eco bolts pinged off of the thing's cranial armor, and it retaliated by leveling the massive plasma cannon on its right arm, firing at the Revenant and taking a chunk out of another building as he ducked beneath it. Even then, the gray armored warrior still felt the massive heat backwash that almost overloaded his suit's temperature regulation system.

"Let's see if you can fight what you can't see!" He hissed, before activating the active camouflage system of his Kartarn battle armor.

His form faded into a series of blurred lines as the light bending stealth gear kicked into action, making him almost invisible to the untrained eye. The massive commander bot halted in its assault, moving its head about is a systematic search of the area as it attempted to locate its elusive prey. Knowing that this might be his only chance, and that thus far, attacking the mechanical monstrosity with Eco based weaponry was proving to be an exercise in futility, Revenant Seventeen dashed forward, flexing his left fist and bringing out his vibro blade. He slipped into striking range, and with a feral yell, jabbed the melee weapon up to its hilt into the Death Bot.

The thing emitted an electronic scream, before flicking its own left wrist and causing a nozzle like device to pop out of it. Cody barely had time to jump out of the way, landing hard and giving himself the beginnings of a rather nasty bruise as he came down on the fuel rod cannon on his back. However, that swiftly proved to be better than the alternative, as a large gout of flame surged out of the nozzle, causing his eyes to widen.

Mother of the Ancients…that thing had a fierfeking flamethrower!

The burst of oily flames licked at the area he had occupied moments before, and even when it ended, part of the dura-crete continued to burn, and he couldn't hold back a quiet 'eep.' Still, he managed to fight down the fear that was trying to overcome him, forcing it into a ball in his gut.

He had one shot left from his fuel rod cannon, and he decided to use it, hoping that this time, after all the other hits it had taken, that it might bring this thing down. He ripped the weapon off his back, and got down on one knee as it began to bring the flamethrower around to encompass the whole area. He lined up, and then he squeezed the trigger, causing the anti-armor weapon to kick and spit out a massive bolt of green energy. The machine heard it apparently, and turned just in time to get the bolt in the chest.

Unfortunately for Cody, all the blast did was rock the thing backwards a little bit.

"You know," he exclaimed as the thing fired another plasma cannon round right over his head, "with all that's gone wrong today, I would appreciate it if I could get cut a little bit of slack!"

Apparently, some deity up above must have heard his complaints, as he suddenly remembered the sonic grenades that he'd been given. Knowing that he had precious little left to lose, the gray armored soldier reached into the bandolier of grenades that he was carrying, and drew one of them out. He primed it as the thing kept searching for him, and hurled it with all of the strength he could muster. The thing hit right between the Death Bot's feet, and it exploded, sending the high powered sound waves roaring outwards.

The result was surprising, as metal crumpled and circuitry exploded, depriving the mechanized trooper of everything it had below the waist. However, being a machine, and therefore operating along a one track mind, it propped itself up on one arm, and lowered a massive, tri barreled energy cannon that it had on its back. Cody saw the weapon's barrels begin to glow, and realized that if he didn't do something, the future was going to be short, and rather bleak.

Hastily he reached for another grenade, and threw it at the walking death engine. This time, luck was on his side, and the thing was reduced to scrap.

As the pieces of the machina construct bounced and clattered around him, the Revenant felt himself overcome with relief, and couldn't help laughing out loud like a complete maniac.

Still, he was quick to realize he had to get to the evac point if he didn't want to be stuck in this place.

* * *

"Fall back, fall back!" Toshiro yelled into his boom-mike, firing his rifle and blowing a Hawk out of the sky at the same time.

A tank rumbled past him, and his men continued to rush blindly for the safety of the Residential Sectors, about a quarter mile behind him. Things were rapidly falling apart, and if the screams that continued to echo over his speakers were any indication, his soldier's were dropping like flies.

Whatever these new Death Bots were, it was apparent that the elves had drastically underestimated the droid army's combat potential.

The black armored general growled under his breath, firing off the last couple of rounds from his sniper rifle, before casting it aside and drawing his side arm.

He went to call out more orders to try and get a head count on who was still alive and breathing, which a high pitched whining split the air. He and a few others looked up and saw one of the new command and control robots come out of an overdrive boost and land not fifty feet away from them. In a flash, grenades were primed and a torrent of blaster fire streaked towards the mechanical monstrosity, hitting it. The bolts did little good, bouncing off of the armor, while the exploding grenades seemed to do little more than irritate it, if that.

It leveled the pulse cannon on its shoulder, and fired three times in rapid succession. Screams echoed throughout the sector a moment later as a trio of closely grouped troopers dropped, the energy rounds having torn all the way through their armor.

The machina warrior turned to face the general next, and one of the pentagon shaped missile launchers on the sides of its upper arms opened up, firing two shots at the group he was in.

An orange and yellow explosion lit up the block, its roar drowning out the screams of the elves caught in the blast. Those watching saw Toshiro, his face a mask of defiance as he continued to fire his weapon, outlined for a fraction of a second, before the fireball consumed him.

Cries of fear and rage intermingled with each other in the seconds that followed. Some Freedom League soldiers threw aside any semblance of discipline, and bolted. Others stayed, fighting a doomed battle with the machine, which as if things weren't bad enough, was joined a moment or two later by several of its comrades, who fell upon them like ravenous wolves.

* * *

Back in the war room, Ashelin's jaw dropped as she saw the general's black box screen go to wintry static, crackling all the while.

A good soldier had died, but there was no time to mourn for him. The army would have to be regrouped, and fast, or else others would suffer Toshiro's fate.

* * *

A Metal Head Grunt leapt at him, its fangs bared and its mouth open in a snarl, only to receive a spear tip through it a second later.

Brutter let out a war cry of his own, letting the Hora-quan that were trying to bring him down know that he wasn't dying without a fight. Indeed, the Lurker captain had already slain more than twenty of the beasts, but as was the usual case, for everyone he struck down, it seemed as though ten more arrived to take its place.

And his situation wasn't looking too hot by anyone's standards. He was cut off from the rest of the troopers, his own command group lying in pools of their own blood closer to the heart of the West Side.

Fire came skipping in as a Crab Head lined him up in its sights, its twin blasters coming perilously close to hitting him. As it was, he back flipped out of the way, and brought his own ranged weapon to bear upon his would be slayer, a specially designed wrist mounted sub machinegun that Keira had designed for him. Quickly slinging his spear into its holder on his back, he cocked his left fist down, before using his right to press the button which served as the firing mechanism.

A burst of Eco bolts sailed out of the barrel, glowing blue and slamming into the commander type. It growled, slightly fazed by the attack, but fine aside from that. However, what the creature had no way of knowing was that its opponents new toy was based off of the same design that Keira had used for the magnum, so when a soccer ball sized shot came from it a second later, its eyes bulged out, right before the blast slammed into its face and removed them, along with most of the rest of that particular region of its body. Its legs quivered and its corpse slumped to the ground, reflexively grabbing at a face that was no longer there.

However, the Lurker had little time to rejoice, for the accursed thing had comrades that came surging around a corner a moment later. It was now time for his large, golden eyes to bulge out, as he saw the vastness of their numbers. There were scores of them, no, hundreds of them. Growling, determined to die a warrior in the tradition of his forefathers, the Lurker leveled his blaster, and awaited the charge.

However, it was not forthcoming.

The Hora-quan merely stood there, watching him, snarling quietly amongst themselves. He shifted about, wondering what could be up, as he had never before seen the beings hesitate to rip apart something that they knew they could.

Most unfortunately for him, the answer came stomping around the corner a moment or two later.

Brutter actually felt the thing before he saw it, the subtle vibration in the ground. When he finally did lay eyes upon it, it was all he could do to resist the urge to gulp. It was a kind of Hora-quan that he had never seen before, and he realized instantly that this thing was in charge of the Metal Head forces simply by the way it carried itself, and by the way that even the Crab Heads made haste to get out of its way.

Standing close to fifteen feet tall, and walking upon four legs, the centaur like beast eyed him with pitiless black eyes, eyes that carried enough power within them to make fear gnaw at the Lurker's guts and his feet feel like they had adhered to the dura-crete.

The creature crossed its purplish arms, pushing them against the breastplate that covered its chest. After a couple of moments of sizing up the competition, it let out a sound that appeared to be a twisted combination of mocking laughter and a scorn filled snort. Without hesitating a moment, the large Metal Head reached down to a belt like bit of material that ran around where its humanoid torso connected with the more bestial one. It was only then that Brutter took note of what must have been its weapon, which was some sort of strange scythe/morning star with the two ends connected to each other by a heavy chain that was about seven or eight feet in length.

With an evil grin that bared its fangs, the thing charged at him, the rod part of the morning star gripped in its right hand while it twirled the scythe part around above its head.

The creature moved fast for a beast of its size, and was upon him before he was ready. The Lurker captain barely managed to dodge out of the way as a vicious upswing nearly cut him in half vertically. However, as he landed, and rolled to where he could see the fiend, he found himself having to once again make haste to vacate the current area he occupied, as the creature, in the half second that his back had been turned to it, had reversed its grip upon its weapon, and covered the distance between them. Now, it was brining the morning star portion of the weapon down at his head at a nightmarish speed.

He leaped to one side again, and heard a sickening crunch from where he had been a moment ago. As he looked back over, he saw the morning star embedded in the ground, and cracks spider webbing outward from the point of impact for about a good six or so feet in every direction.

Quickly yanking back on the chain, the massive Hora-quan pulled the weapon free, and charged Brutter again, the scythe once again hissing as its owner tried to spill his blood upon the ground.

With a building now behind him, Brutter did the most instinctive, and potentially suicidal thing he could do. He leapt straight forward between the legs of the beast, and he heard the sharp grinding sound as the titanium-A and dura-crete that made up the building get split in twain by the attack. Unfortunately, what the Lurker had underestimated was the creature's ability to control its own feet, and the next thing he felt was blinding pain across his chest as it was raked by the talons of the right rear leg. This also tossed him out from under the thing, putting him in the perfect position to be smacked by its tail.

He felt his ribs shatter as he went sailing across the street, where he slammed into a building with enough force that it's a wonder he didn't leave an impression of himself in the side of it. With a groan, Brutter slid to the ground, oblivion taking him.

Ironically enough, that would save his life.

Looking back over its shoulder, the large Metal Head snorted, eyeing the broken body of the purple furred captain. It then called out a command in its native tongue, telling its inferiors to keep up with it as it went to slaughter more enemies.

With that, the group started out again, eager to rip into their enemies.

* * *

"What are you waiting for, get out of there now!" Ashelin screamed into her mike.

"We can't, they've got the whole battalion pinned down!" Torn shouted back at her while he fired his shredder into the midst of a Metal Head group.

The situation was crumbling around her, despite her best attempts to hold everything together. The evacuation drop ships had finally gotten into position to try and get the troops out of the SNAFU that they were in had run into a problem. In the Industrial Sector hidden anti aircraft batteries had opened up upon the rescue craft, ripping off the tops of the roofs that they'd been concealed under before they began swatting the ships down like flies.

It had been much the same in the West Side, where the Guardians had finally showed up, raining Dark Eco down upon drop ship and elf alike, slaughtering everything they could.

And both of those areas ringed the Harbor Sector, meaning that Torn, Keira, Jinx, Tess, and everyone else were effectively cut off and on their own.

Reports streamed in, and she looked up at the grid maps on the main command screen, which showed that most of the troops, with the exception of those in the Harbor, were on their way back to the residential sectors, though they were losing soldiers every second.

It happened about five minutes later, just as another wave of drop ships and Hellcats were being moved into position to try to reach the men and women who were trapped within the deeper portions of the enemy infested sectors.

"What the hell?" one of the technicians exclaimed suddenly, his fingers running over the keyboard in a furious manner.

"What's going on?" The Governess of Haven City asked in a broken voice, wondering what else could be going wrong.

"The system's charging the sector barriers," the elf growled, still typing away, "and they'll be in Lockdown in less than a minute!"

"Who gave the command?" Ashelin inquired, her voice frantic, knowing that the remaining troopers would be stranded against hopeless odds if that were to happen.

"I don't know!" the techie snarled in frustration. "Someone's overriding the system!"

"Can you stop it?" she asked, her eyes wide and her breathing heavy.

"No ma'am." the other elf groaned with a shake of his head.

They all watched, utterly helpless, as the barriers shot up less than sixty seconds later, reaching from the sector entrances all the way up to the top of the Shield Wall. Designed to withstand prolonged bombardment of almost any known weapon, they effectively made it impossible for anything to get in and out for the time being.

"Torn…" she whispered quietly, knowing what his fate, and that of everyone else now trapped in those sectors, would likely be.

Still, she had to be strong, and she would not allow her emotion to show itself here. Instead, she continued calling out orders and trying to get a headcount on those who had come back alive. She also took the time to throw a scathing look at Veger and the other Councilors who had thought up this disastrous plan.

However, much as she was tempted to draw her guns and shoot them all dead on the spot, she didn't. There were more important things that needed to be done.

Samos, standing next to her, had a faint shimmer to his eyes as he looked upon the screens. His thoughts were upon his daughter, knowing that she was trapped out there in that mess. The aging Green Eco Sage sent a silent plea to whoever might have been listening that she would alright, as he couldn't bear the thought of losing her now, after all that had already happened, after all that she had already been through.

"Jak," he muttered to where only he could hear, "where are you?"

He looked up and saw that Veger and the other councilors were glaring at him, no doubt having over heard the remark that he had made.

"Watch your words, old man," one of them hissed, "it is not wise to call upon devils to save us."

The response that the councilor received was a glare that could have sent fear through the egoless mind of a Death Bot, and the man took an involuntary step backwards as the diminutive Sage moved closer to the group.

"You had better pray that my daughter doesn't get killed because of your actions here today!" He snarled, his breaths coming in heavy pants. "Because if she has, you had best hope that 'devil' gets to you before I can!"

"And why is that?" Count Veger inquired, looking down his nose at Samos.

"Because Kage might give you the mercy of a quick death, if more than a little messy." He shot back in a voice that might have frozen fire. "I won't be that sympathetic!"

With that he stalked off, and where he was heading was anyone's guess.

* * *

Keira dove to the side, her morph gun spitting a stream of Eco bolts at a Grunt that had made the mistake of drawing her attention. Two hit its head, while the rest tore though its head, turning it into a mess its own mother, if it had had one, would have had trouble recognizing. To her right, Tess let out a scream as she opened up as well, cutting down a pair of Drones with burst shots to their craniums. The two of them then hauled tail and leapt into an alley way as Roller Bots came in, unfurling and letting fly with their arm mounted blasters.

Tess panted, and the barrel of her morph gun was smoking as she attempted to slap another round of assault rifle ammo into it. Keira however, simply holstered her gun, and drew the other one that she had strapped across her back. She'd brought that particular weapon along in the event of being swarmed by robotic assailants, and now it looked as if that bit of foresight was going to pay off in a big way. The gun itself was about mid way between the size of an assault rifle and a sub machinegun, solid black, and had a scope that would allow for a one and a half time magnification in the event that she needed a more precise shot. The aqua haired elf gripped it close, one hand upon the barrel grip, the other on the trigger stock, and peeked around the corner.

She was forced to pull her head back almost instantly as a torrent of blaster fire took the edge of it off, but she had found out what she needed to know. There were about five of them out there, which suited her just find. Though this was a battle, her technical side was elated to finally have a chance to field test this new toy.

Keira held down the trigger, and Tess watched, her amazed expression hidden by her visor, as blue energy seemed to gather at the end of the barrel, humming and pulsing. As for the aqua haired elf holding the weapon, she turned her eyes down to a raised portion that was just behind the scope, and watched as a digitized circular gauge began to fill up, turning from yellow to red as charged. The whole process took about two and a half seconds, and then she was ready.

The newly christened Revenant spun out from behind her cover, leveling the strange gun at the nearest Roller, which was attempting to line her up in its own crosshairs. She released her grip on the trigger, and a blast of crisscrossing, blue-white lightning bolts shot out of the barrel, nailing the droid dead center and effectively scrambling its circuits. However, even as the droids central processors overloaded and shut down, while the chassis itself shorted out and blew apart, the electrical surge leapt another pair of Death Bots, sentencing them to the same fate as their comrade.

Even then, the blast continued, nailing the final two a tenth of a second later, and they fell in a heap, their motherboards the dictionary definition of 'well done.'

Tess stuck her head around the corner, whistling slightly at the handiwork that she had just watched her friend unleash, and realizing that if they ever got out of this catastrophe, that they were going to have to make producing more of that gun, whatever it was, priority number one.

Keira smiled to herself, glad that her arc caster, as she had dubbed it, functioned as she had hoped it would. The gun operated by using a power cell charged full to the brim with pure electrical energy, rather than Eco, which was unleashed when the trigger was pulled in a manner that made it look like a glorified stun gun. However, while that was just about all it did to organic targets, aside form leaving them with some rather nasty burns, it was a combat droid's worst nightmare, overloading and scrambling vital circuits. She'd also discovered that when put into overcharge mode that the blast was so great that it could jump from target to target, making it theoretically capable of laying waste to whole squadrons of enemies.

However, such a shot used three times the normal drain, and the power pack only had enough charge for about fifteen shots in the first place, meaning that she had to carry a bandolier full of clips just to keep it running. Not to mention it had a maximum effective range of about seventy five feet. However, in urban combat such as this, range was rarely an issue.

Besides, that bug could eventually be tweaked out of it, for now, the Death Bots were about to learn the full potential of a woman's wrath.

"Torn," she called out over her comm. as she scanned about for any other potential targets, "where are you and Jinx?"

For a few seconds, naught but static met her query. However, much to her relief, the tattooed wonder managed to get a message through a moment later.

"…Pinned down by the Naughty Ottsel." was his growled reply, interrupted by a command a second later. "Concentrate fire on that Crab Head!" he shouted, and a barrage of blaster fire echoed over the comm. link for a time, coming to an end only after what could only be a Hora-quan death wail split the air. "I don't know where Jinx is, but he's probably not to far from Mog and Grim, wherever those two are."

"Roger that." Keira responded, before activating the macro-binoculars set into her helmet.

She was then quickly able to locate the bar that Daxter owned, and motioning for Tess to follow, shouldered her arc caster and began to double time it towards the establishment.

Though the Lockdown had cut them off from any potential reinforcements, the same applied to their enemies, but the Death Bots and the Metal Heads alike already had a rather sizeable force in the area, outnumbering them every bit of five to one. This left the elves chances of survival to depend solely upon their ability to out think and out gun their opponents.

Both girls were quick too prove themselves capable of doing just that.

A combination of Metal Head Grunts and Death Bot Hawks crested a mound of rubble to their left, and both Revenants rolled as blaster fire rained down at them. Coming out of the evasive maneuvers, they snapped into action. Keira let fly another overcharge shot which nailed the lead Hawk right between its photoreceptors, causing a number of critical systems failures within the crimson armored drone that caused it to explode even while the blast was surging around to its comrades and their ground bound allies. The droids were puffs of flame, smoke, and shrapnel a few seconds later, some detonating so close to their organic buddies that their hull fragments skewered them, something which Keira was quick to realize could come in handy later on.

As for the remaining ones, while not slain by the electrical charge, it did stun them for a few moments, which was more than enough time for her blond haired sister in arms to line the freaks up with her crosshairs, and bore trios of holes into their heads with her assault rifle.

The two of them passed the last one as it fell to the ground and rolled down the war made hill, twitching out its life. As they crested it, they took notice of a group of infantry regulars who were being pinned down by a Crab Head and another group of centurions. Keira, ever the observant one, noticed that the Metal Heads were bunched up, making them an easy target for an area of effect weapon. However, rather than using her RPG launcher, as it only had about six shots left, which she wanted to conserve, she holstered her arc caster, and angling her right fist in a certain manner, fired off her grappling hook.

The four hundred foot long cable shot out of the gauntlet, and sank into a warehouse wall that went right over the Metal Heads. She pulled her fist back slightly, triggering the reeling mechanism in the device, and the next thing that she knew she was sailing over the battlefield.

The aqua haired elf drew close to her target, and with a cold efficiency, reached down into her belt, drew one of her sonic grenades, and primed it. She waited another second, until she was just in front of the group of Hora-quan, who were still exchanging shots with the infantry men, oblivious to their impending doom, and released the explosive. Her own momentum caused the weapon to fly forward for a bit, before it hit almost at the exact center of the group. They paused, and looking about, were able to notice the beeping device just in time for an 'oh drek' line of thought to creep through their minds. The sonic grenade exploded a second later, reducing every member of the Hora-quan squadron to something that would likely need to be cleaned up with a mop or a dust buster.

She placed her feet out in front of her as the wall drew closer, and hit with a grunt, letting her legs absorb the impact. With practiced ease, she dislodged the grappling hook, and landed, turning to face the blue armored Freedom Guard members, who were slack jawed at what they had just witnessed.

"Come on!" She cried to them, motioning for them to fall in behind her as Tess caught up with her.

The dozen or so soldiers gave out a chorus of 'Yes Ma'ams!' and quickly fell into line behind the aqua haired elf, who shouldered her arc caster again and took point, Tess by her side with her morph gun constantly searching about, looking for the slightest hint of enemy movement.

They were not long in encountering more resistance as another group of Metal Heads showed up, a quartet of Grunts led by a pair of Centurions. However, outnumbered more than two to one by the elves, the fight was over in seconds, the infantry regulars quickly dropping the Grunts by overlapping their fire, some tapping the heads, others the hearts, while Tess hurled a plasmite grenade at the shield carrying leaders. The fiery explosive hissed at their feet for a second, and their avian eyes widened as they attempted to throw themselves out of the way. However, they reacted too late, and the ensuing blast utterly consumed them, the explosion drowning out their death screeches.

A cheer went up amongst the elves, their hearts gladdening as they pressed forward, knowing that they were striking down their enemies, that even though they were cut off from command and reinforcements, that if they died, they would go down fighting and trying to take as many of their hellish foes down with them as was possible.

* * *

It did not take long for Keira and the others to arrive at the Naughty Ottsel, and quite a shock awaited them when they arrived.

A Scorpion was there, its secondary machineguns blazing away at a charging group of clankers, joined a moment later by the main cannon, which sent a crimson blast of energy screaming into the center of an enemy formation, where it detonated and filled their air with charbroiled silicon chips and flying pieces of metal.

Next to it was a downed light assault vehicle, which the mechanic within Keira's mind instantly realized was damaged beyond any hope of repair. However, the LAAG gun upon the back of it still apparently worked, if the fact that Torn was strapped into it, blazing away at the mechanized enemy was any indication.

Keira, not wishing to be left out of a perfectly good fight, slapped a fresh pack into the arc caster and began charging it up, preparing to unleash its fury upon the constructs, all the while charging forward. She threw herself flat on the ground to avoid several energy bolts that flew her direction, and timed her fire with her scraping along the dura-crete. The bolts of electricity leapt from the gun, turning six of the Death Bots into things meant only for the recycling bin.

"Glad you could make it!" she heard Torn growl over their comm. channel, as he stopped firing for a couple of seconds to let the M-41 cool.

Keira was about to make a reply, when she noticed that Metal Heads were starting to join the fray. However, she felt elated when a loud booming sound split the air moments later, followed swiftly by a massive blast of energy that exploded in their midst.

She looked over to see where the shot had come from, zooming in with her macro-binoculars, and had to resist the urge to whoop when she saw Jinx leading a rather large group of soldiers in their direction, with another Scorpion in their midst. A pair of light attack vehicles were flanking the large M808, their gunners ready and waiting for their LAAG's to get into firing range.

It would appear as though Daxter's establishment had become the official rallying point of the beleaguered elven forces.

With the thought of maybe living to fight another day driving her onwards, the aqua haired elf lined her charged arc caster up with another group of Death Bots, and released another blast of electricity at them. Another six fell, now nothing more than piles of miscellaneous metal bits and slagged circuitry.

Shortly thereafter, Jinx and his group arrived, adding hundreds of ground troopers to the mix, a couple of infantry vulcans courtesy of Mog and some other soldiers, the light assault craft, and the Scorpion.

The battle wasn't easy, but regrouped and dug in as they were, Hora-quan and Death Bot alike quickly learned that backed into a corner and fighting for their lives, elves made extremely deadly adversaries, particularly when they had heavy weapons at their disposal.

Every minute of the conflict was hellish, but eventually, the Freedom Guard emerged triumphant from the fray, and the elves, although battered and battle weary, could proudly attest that if nothing else, they had succeeded in their mission.

Now they just had to survive long enough for command to come bail them out.

* * *

Benton leaned against the inside of the abandoned warehouse, looking out over the remnants of his platoon…which came to a grand total of three if he included himself.

"Keith, Ariel, you two alright?" he asked as he held his nearly empty weapon close.

"I've had better days." Ariel responded, shaking her head mournfully.

Keith, his blue armor stained red across the front, remained silent, rocking back and forth and whimpering slightly. The other two could hardly blame him, considering all that had happened.

Abruptly, they heard a clattering sound, and the three of them looked about, a sinking feeling that they had been found out entering into their hearts, and all three suddenly swallowed to try and moisten their dry throats. The sergeant motioned for the other two to hold back and let him check it out, and he stepped forward, moving his gun around in a slow, systematic method, trying to discern what had made the racket.

He scanned about, letting his eyes focus on what seemed out of place, knowing that could mean the difference between life and death.

He was about to lower his gun, having seen nothing but old storage crates and the like, when something abruptly caught his eye.

A portion of one of the crates seemed almost distorted.

He leveled his blaster rifle and was about to fire when a very much elven voice broke came from the blur.

"At ease, soldier." the thing said.

A moment later, the active camouflage faded, and the three of them saw Lieutenant Cody Balic phase into view.

"Name and rank?" the Revenant inquired, stepped forward.

"Sergeant Benton Davis, Sir." The blue armored warrior replied in a weary manner.

"I remember you." Cody said, a faraway tone to his accented voice. "You were one of the soldiers in the construction exo-skeletons during the Metal Head assault."

"Yes sir." Benton responded, recalling that battle all too well, but trying to keep his mind on the present. "What are your orders?"

"I know we're not alone out here," the special forces soldier replied, popping the seal on his helmet, baring his tattooed visage and shaking his red/blue hair slightly as he breathed unfiltered air, "so we're going to head out and try to find any other survivors. This warehouse is pretty far out of the clankers' usual area of operations, so we might even be able to use it as something of a home base until we can get support to us." He chuckled in a tired manner. "Who knows, some of these crates might even have food and drinkable water in them."

Maybe it was the presence of one of the elite soldiers, or maybe it was something else altogether, but Benton began to feel that maybe, just maybe, they might get out of this mess in one piece.

* * *

The construct sighed to itself. It hated having to initiate a Lockdown, knowing full well that anyone who was still left inside would be left to a fate unknown at best.

However, in its calculating mind, it beat the alternative of having the Metal Heads and the Death Bots swarm into the heart of the Residential Sectors and slaughter everyone.

Still, it thought, as it brought up the visual displays of one of the Hawks that it had been able to sneak in and reprogram while it was being constructed, if it found a chance to help these stranded elves, it would do so. Nonetheless, it would have to be discrete, as it was currently confined to this area, and with its matrix core being in the heart of the power plant, very, very vulnerable. It could not afford to draw too much attention to itself, and thereby have them zero in on its location and destroy it.

* * *

Brutter groaned, floating in and out of consciousness. The last thing that he remembered was flying through the air, and a distinct feeling that he had been about to meet his ancestors.

However, if he was dead, then why was he still feeling pain?

A shape moved off to his right, blue against the darkness, and his sensitive ears could occasionally pick up the sound of conversation.

"…miracle he's alive…"

"…manage to get him stable…praise the Precursor's for field med kits…"

"…hold out here…keep fighting…"

So, some elves had found him and were now sheltering him. Well, at least it hadn't been the Metal Heads, so he counted his blessings.

Thankfully, it wasn't long before someone apparently noticed him groaning and moving about, and quickly tried to ease his pain. The Lurker felt a sharp jab, before all faded back to darkness.

* * *

Far away, in a hovering production facility, another artificial intelligence construct was reviewing the data that it had received for the battle.

Thus far, the new prototype units that had been tested in the Industrial Sector were proving to be vastly superior to the current models, and it would need to get the production facilities for them up and running as soon as was possible.

Still, they did have shortcomings, such as that one enemy unit that had cloaked itself and thereby rendered itself invisible to their methods of sight. The newer units would have to be equipped with heat sensors as well as normal light vision. It took all of a nanosecond to chalk that modification up, while it turned its thoughts to another thing that was puzzling it.

The Lockdown had been somewhat unexpected, and it somehow knew that the elves had not been responsible for it. There was a third party somewhere, and it was apparently trying to thwart it and those that it served.

This third party would have to be dealt with as well, and it would see the task through. Also, if its hunch about the party being another construct was correct, it vowed that it would delete the thing one code at a time when it found it.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, that's a wrap for now.

To answer a few questions, the arc caster Keira is using is a Dark Trooper weapon from Star Wars: Battlefront II, and shall replace the arc wielder, as the caster is a considerably better precision weapon.

Also, I realize that Errol went and proved it is possible to survive being blown up and having nothing more than half of your face left and still survive, but let me tell you all here and now that Toshiro is dead, deceased, fertilizing daisies, however you care to say it. Also, those of you who have seen my e-mail address may be wondering something and the answer to that question is yes, I just self inserted and immediately killed myself. What possessed me to do that, I know not, though perhaps it was giving the copious amounts of OCs that I have killed off a bit of vengeance.

Finally, yes, the Metal Head that Brutter encountered was the same one from Keira's dream. He is a lieutenant type Hora-quan, and like Kor, has a disturbingly long lifespan.

Those questions answered, please let me know what you thought of this chapter, be it in the form of a review, a constructive criticism, or a flame. Also, please let me know of any ideas that you might have or things of that nature.

Thanks again people, and have a nice day.


	9. Youthful Reminiscing

Hello again, everyone, and I hope you're weeks been great. Been a little hectic for me, as Exams are encroaching upon me like the inevitable arrival of Death himself. Also, I am feeling a little guilty that my Breath of Fire story has been neglected for so long due to a fiendish combination of this story being jealous, and that particular muse having left me out to dry.

At any rate, I feel the need to warn you of two things. The first of which is that this is an OC centric chapter. Jak and Daxter are in the beginning, but for the most part, this is a segment in which I attempt to flesh out Precursor society and make Kerrog, Tarath, and the others a tad more human, here's hoping I manage to pull it off and that you people aren't going to stone me for dedicating an entire chapter to it.

The second thing is a change around here that has reached my attention. Its just a rumor, but I have inquired of the staff, and until I am told otherwise, I will regretfully be unable to respond to my reviewers in the following chapter. HOWEVER! Those of you who leave signed reviews, I will send you and e-mail, and for those of you who leave anonymous ones, if you want me to reply or respond, please leave me an e-mail address to which I can send you a reply, as I enjoy answering questions and the like. On another note, if this rumor proves to be true, I must say that the rules and regulations are getting a bit nutty around here.

At any rate, to those of you who did review this time:

**Farr2rich- **Yeah, I always thought that the Arc Wielder was to unwieldy, and that it ate through its ammo at an insanely fast rate. The Arc Caster, on the other hand, was considerably more precise, and in the right hands, can kill a Wookie with a single shot (episode III should show you just how much abuse those walking carpets can put up with) AS for Keira's powers, I'm thinking about chapter twelvish is when she's going to receive her first ones, hopefully not in a manner that is hopelessly clichéd. That said, best of luck to you in your own writings, and sorry it took me so long to review.

**Wizard Surreal- **THANK YOU! I have been wondering how I was going to have that little confrontation, as Sig was going to be bringing Keira into Spargus, and as a result would likely be in the audience with her at the time of the match. Now, though, I know just how to do it, and how to get Damas down into that ring for a no holds barred scrap. (bows repeatedly) As for Zelda, I haven't played one of those since OoT, though I once had a rough draft for a fic from that timeline. Now though, I am thinking of taking the new twists I had planned for it and throwing them into an AU J&D story set in a medieval timeframe and world similar to the Forgotten Realms…need to get to brainstorming on that.

**nightwish635- **I thank you for the complement, but I am only as good as the master's whose works I have spent many a night reading, so thank them, not me. As for Keira's heritage, she is an Ascended Channeler, though she doesn't know it yet, descended from a Precursor named Phoenix, who Tarath was rather close to, as will be explained in this chapter.

**Philoworm- **Hope that you did okay on those tests, I know how rough they can be. As for the cyber battle, there really isn't gong to be much in the way of an environment, as it will be sort of a battle arena styled zone they'll be fighting in. However, there will be ultra fast move, copious use of attack programs, viruses, and hastily erected personal firewalls. That said, hope you like this chapter, and thanks for the luck, I think I'm going to need it.

**GoodMorningBeautiful2005- **Thanks for the vote of confidence, and yes Keira will hurt Veger again, but it will be a while in coming. Not much of Jak or Kage in this chapter, however, they will be back in the next one, and the beginning of chapter eleven will have Kage getting up close and personal with Seem, so hopefully it'll be worth the wait. Hope you like this chapter too, and let me know what you think.

**MariaShadow- **Yeah, I always hated how Vin was never really in the third game, a construct can be an invaluable asset on a battlefield, just look at Cortana from the Halo Series, she puts the enemies of humanity through all sorts of hell when given anything resembling the chance to do so. As for my OCs, several more of them have yet to be introduced (most of them with this chapter) that will wind up dying horrible horrible deaths, so please don't be too angry.

**Babycakes3620- **Thank you for your support, and I hope that I live up to your expectations, as there are a few areas of this tale that I am still trying to iron out at the current moment. That said, hope you enjoy this installment.

**ultimatemakuta**- Yeah, that was rather dumb of Veger, but don't worry, once Jak gets back to Haven and helps Torn and co. link up with the rest of the gang, he and his cronies will quickly be given their comeuppance, so worry not.

**jaklover123- **Yeah, war is hell, and it is ugly. Even the Precursors, whose method of fighting is beautiful to watch in practice, will be horrifying to observe once they actually start trying to kill each other, and even worse when Kerrog and the others go all out upon Haven themselves. As for Samos, yeah, he can be nasty when he wants to be. As for Veger, you can pretty much expect just about every major character to have beaten the crap out of him by the time that this is over with.

**Ecohorse- **Thank you for your vote of confidence, and I am glad that you enjoyed the stories so far. As for Keira and her past, that was one thing that really did bug the crap out of me, as it was a golden opportunity that N.D. wasted, as if you look at her age and compare it with Jak's, there is no way she can possibly be Samos' real daughter. That said, hope you like this one.

**Exardas- **Haven won't get any sort of mechanized armor suits unfortunately, however, Vin will take over a prototype death bot around chapter twenty five or so, so even old gear head's going to start throwing his weight around, plus he will be doing other things as well. And yes, Keira is the Light Eco user of this story, and she will have a few new tricks thanks to you and everyone else.

**LunaticPandora1- **Actually, the new Death Bots are more akin to Armored Cores. As for Jak, he's still practicing with Tarath, and the two of them have been going at each other for a while.

**YamiTenshi14- **Yeah, you should check their works out, both of them can be found on amazon, so that should give you a good idea of what to expect from them. Thanks for the construct battle ideas, not sure on the copying deal, but I might make it to where they can create 'phantom' versions of themselves to try and throw the other guy off on who's who, if you know what I mean. As for the pictures, I'll e-mail em to you along with the reply to your next review if that's okay with you. Thanks again, and I hope you like this chapter.

**Evil Manic- **Vin has not yet begun to fight! And yes, later he will grab a bot for his own personal use, though as per usual, it will be a even more bad to the bone prototype the Precursor A.I. had been designing for himself. The Council will suffer soon enough, and Jak will definitely be busy once he finally gets back and starts cleaning house. Those questions answered, I hope you like this chapter, with all of its AU and finally, some original ideas.

**GundamWingFanatic90- **Glad you like the story, and I always felt that N.D. should have gotten those two a little closer after the second game. As for the lockdown, yes, Keira will be joining up with him around Chapter Sixteen or so, and they'll be inseparable from there on out, so don't worry. Thanks again, and I hope you like this chapter just as much, as I am stepping into new and uncharted territory here.

**animedragongirl- **Yeah, I based my lifespan upon what it would likely be in a real fight, as I figured I would survive right up until things started heading down crap creek. And thank you once again for beta-reading my writings. That said, hope to see more of prank wars soon, and I'll try to have the next chapter to you by Sunday.

**DarkStarPhoenix- **A meter is about 3.3 feet in height, so he'd be around four and a half meters in height, and the Precursor combat forms are about 2.5-2.66 on average. As for Keira's Light powers, she'll hopefully be getting them around chapter twelve or so, and that Metal Head leader made the mistake of assuming that Brutter was dead, so he should hurry up and pursue the fleeing elves so more could be slaughtered. So, I hope that helped you out, and please let me know what you think of this chapter, thanks.

**someone- **Jak won't be receiving and Light sided powers in this story, as he can't Channel anything but Dark Eco in this version. Instead, Keira will be receiving those, and the Precursors will also unleash quite a few Light Eco powers as well.

**Light-Eco-Sage- **Tis Okay, I know that all of our schedules are hectic and busy, such is life in this day in age. Hope you like this chapter, and I hope to see your own works posted again soon.

**Crazed Demon- **No, no death for Veger, however for his fall from grace so to speak, start thinking that scene from RotS when Anakin and the clones are marching up the steps of the Jedi temple, only with Jak, Keira, and the others in a considerably less lethal version. As for When Jak goes back, it will be shortly after he, Keira, and Damas take care of the Marauder threat for good, and they will be taking Pecker back with them (my attempt to explain how he gets back to the city).

**SRHumphrey727- **Glad you liked it, and I am bad about killing off my OCs just to warn you (lots of the Precursor ones wind up dying) And thank you for letting me know that I managed to capture the realism between Samos and Veger, and don't worry, he and his daughter will get back up, as will just about everyone once she and Jak return to retake the city. As for my thanksgiving, it went surprisingly well, for which I am grateful.

**Xazz- **I am flattered and honored that my story was read before you played the games (bows in humility) As for the ending to the third game, I have yet to play Jak-X, but some of the pictures I have seen, of a certain scene people like you and me have been waiting for for a long time, leave little to doubt that the crack addict responsible for that was disposed of. As for Vulgar, don't worry, Jak beats the stuffing out of him in the next chapter.

**Yuuzora- **Sorry to hear about that, and I hope that you are feeling better. As for the death bots, Jak will fight several of them, and it will be a close shave, but the honor of dicing up that lieutenant, who shall finally receive a name in this chapter, shall go to Keira, a little payback for burning her home to the ground and slaughtering everyone she knew. Just one more chapter till the Veger torture resumes!

**Weirdo- **Was actually planning on an attack like that for the Precursor Templars, except a shield would absorb them, and Keira's own weapon will be a naginata (glaive) styled polearm that she'll be getting with her armor around chapter seventeen (I hope). As for the two legged walkers, I never really liked them, as upon seeing what the eight legged one could do, it made me wonder why they even had those. That said, hope you like this chapter, and thank you very much for reviewing. (bows)

**Some Random Reviewer- **Glad to know I haven't driven you off, and there was a time when I thought about giving Keira a split personality, but I just couldn't figure out how to make it work, if you know what I mean. As for her being there to scare Veger, she will get another shot at him, as will Tarath, who will personally tear Veger a new one when he points that blaster as Xadec (the Precursor Leader) in that scene we all busted out laughing at. Wish me luck on the fluffy reunion thing, as it won't be a very long scene. That will have to wait until Haven is rescued from the perils it's in at the current moment.

To those of you who read, but did not review, I hope that you have enjoyed by story so far, and that I do not scare you off with the drastic AU steps I take in this chapter.

To the Lawyers: I hereby swear upon my immortal soul that I do not own anything save that which I have drawn up from the depths of my own demented mind.

That red tape done, here's chapter nine.

* * *

&

* * *

Youthful Reminiscing

With a feral yell, the Ascended Channeler cocked his fist back and sent it streaking forward, aiming for the chest of his target. It almost slipped through his foe's defenses when Tarath caught the strike with his right hand, before giving it a twist and forcing the dark elf to either go with the flow, or suffer a nasty spiral fracture.

Jak did just that, pushing himself up off of the ground and flipping over, lashing out with his feet at the same time. This strike did connect, catching the Reaver he was facing across his helmet. Caught off guard by the sudden offensive attack, Tarath released his grip and staggered backwards, opening up another opportunity for his descendent to try and pummel the living daylights out of him.

Daxter, still stuck in the darkness, could only wonder what was going on in front of him, as they were still practicing using the alternate visor modes, light amplification in this case.

Jak and Tarath had been going at each other for hours now, and his companion had soon learned to harness the powers offered him by the armor of his ancestor. Once that was done, Sentinel had advised going a step further in the training, suggesting that the Ascended Channeler be taught a hand to hand combat style known as Niyan. Apparently, it was something that the Precursor Arbiters used in battle to defend and attack with. Logically, it did make sense for the dark elf to know how to fight back in the event that he found himself without Kitetsu or his powers, as his first foray into the Wastelander arena had demonstrated all too well.

As luck would have it, a holocron stored within the research facility had the style stored within it, so it had been relatively easy for Jak to be flash trained, downloading the images of the style's moves and combos directly into his mind. However, to know how something is supposed to be performed and being able to perform it are two entirely different matters. Thus, the past three hours had been spent trying to fine tune what he knew.

However, it hadn't been easy, as Jak had numerous disadvantages in this fight. First off, while still a test of skill, fighting hand to hand with an adversary placed a heavier emphasis upon strength and size, and while the Dark Eco flowing through his veins might have made him every bit Tarath's equal in the former, in the case of the latter, Tarath still had a slightly more than two and a half foot advantage over him. This meant that the dark elf was primarily limited to attacked regions of the black armored Ancient's chest and abdomen, while Tarath had free reign over where he could strike. Not to mention that even cocked back and into its non attack position, the Praetor's warp blade was still something he had to be wary of.

A vicious left hook from Tarath connected with Jak's helmet, and he could feel the blow even through the protective gear. This was quickly followed by that unique sensation one could only associate with hitting the ground with a rather hard impact. The air was blown from his lungs, and he couldn't help but grunt. This round went to the Precursian warrior.

Tarath was quick to extend his hand down help the Ascended Channeler back to his feet.

Inwardly, he was very proud of the young elf. He was a natural born warrior and leader, though Jak would likely most vehemently disagree with the latter. Still, the Reaver hoped that Jak would realize what role he would play in the upcoming battle soon, as it would fall to him to lead a great deal of people into war, and he would have to be ready to do so. He knew that the dark elf had the knowledge of how to lead other upon the field of battle, that he could command all of the armies of Haven should he choose to, he simply lacked to the will to do so.

Still, all things in time.

"Not bad, not bad at all." Tarath said aloud as he stood back away from the Heir of Mar.

"Could've done better." The dark elf muttered, cracking his neck to get the cricks out of it.

"Can someone please turn the lights back on so that those of us not wearing Precursor made helmets can see?" came Daxter's high pitched voice, a grumble clearly detectable within it.

"Sentinel." The Praetor said.

That one word was all that was needed and the lights flared to life again. As usual, the hologram floated above the battle arena, no doubt having spent every millisecond analyzing and predicting the next course of the many fights.

Jak was panting heavily, and had the cool air not been circulating through his helmet, would doubtlessly have been up to his alien eyeballs in sweat. Strangely enough, Tarath didn't seem winded in the slightest, and it was something that puzzled the elf. He never would have suspected the truth, as after all to pant required lungs to breathe with in the first place.

"Well done, Dark One." Sentinel responded, taking his attention away from the black armored Ancient and redirecting it towards the floating hologram. "You are well on your way to mastering both your armor and the Niyan arts."

And it was true, though the construct knew that the dark elf would never become anywhere near as dangerous with the style as an Arbiter was, as he lacked the ability to create the necessary energy fields to augment the power of his fists and feet.

Jak merely grunted in response, but he didn't know if he had enough in him for another round, which didn't surprise the artificial intelligence in the slightest, as he and Tarath had been scrapping it out for the better part of ten hours, although that was assuming that his internal clock was not malfunctioning, which was highly unlikely.

"I think that's enough for right now." Tarath said, apparently having reached the same conclusion. Besides, while not exactly winded, the power supply from the generator inside of himself was starting to run low on energy, meaning he would have to drop out of his combat form soon enough to let it recharge, and something told him that now would probably not be the best time to reveal his true form to the duo standing opposite of him, as the smaller of the two mutants would have likely let it go to his head, or started begging to be taught as well, which was something the Reaver was certain he did not have the patience for.

* * *

Jak and Daxter had been escorted back out of the combat arena and to another exit from the base that led to the exterior of the volcano, for which the dark elf was quite grateful, as Kage wouldn't have to nearly broil himself flying over lava. Naturally, this also elated Daxter to a point that words could not describe.

There had been a slight delay though. They had stopped in one of the armory rooms just long enough to grab an armor repair kit and an instruction manual telling the Ascended Channeler the finer points of keeping his gear in field quality condition, something that would be invaluable out here in the Wasteland, and to make use of an infuser device to recharge the Dark Eco Crystal that Kitetsu had in the pommel, as it was running low.

As he watched Kage disappear into the darkness, Tarath headed back inside, reverting back to his normal form and letting his mind drift. His sparring with the dark elf earlier had brought some old memories to the forefront of his ancient mind, a time when things were simpler, when there was no war, and no impeding invasions that could prove to be the doom of the entire planet, nothing like that at all. He remembered a time of peace, a time when the biggest thing he had to worry about was how well he would perform in the next tournament…

* * *

"Come on Phoenix, you're going to make us late!"

Clad in the black robes that indicated his element, with a purple, four pointed star embroidered upon the back that showed him to be a Neophyte, Tarath leaned against a column of the Lostarr house, his crimson eyes examining the source of the voice. The other Precursor was about three years his junior, right smack in the middle of his fourteenth year of life. The Adept's hair was styled like his, but was considerably shorter, as it had only been growing out for a few months as opposed to a few years. His eyes were blue as the summer sky, and sparkled with the energy of youth, and he fidgeted back in forth in a strange combination of excitement and nervousness.

Tarath could hardly blame him, after all, this was going to be Kerrog's first time competing in a major tournament, even if it was only the Adept competition, for the youngest and rawest of the warriors. Determined to be the best, Kerrog had been pushing himself through a maddening battery of tests, throwing himself against the Reaver in training or Phoenix with increasing frequency.

And he'd been pushing himself pretty hard as well. Phoenix and he had done rather well in the lower tiers when they had been younger, but Tarath felt the need to rise above that. This year, he was planning on making himself Arena Champion of his group. He felt that he owed it to his parents if nothing else, as both his father, Eli, and his mother, Rayna, had held that title at one point in their lives.

He couldn't really remember much of them, unfortunately, as he'd only been about two when it had happened. They'd been guarding a research facility not too dissimilar to the one that he'd taken Jak through, when something had gone horribly wrong. A fusion generator within the plant had malfunctioned, going into meltdown and setting off a dozen other chain reactions that overwhelmed the failsafe systems. The plant had been utterly eradicated, along with everyone inside.

The Lostarrs had been good friends with his own family, and had taken him in, raising him as a twin to Phoenix. While his new mother and father, Celebrian and Valadil respectfully, had treated him as every bit a member of the family, he still sometimes felt like an outsider, something only driven home by the fact that they were Archons, and he himself a Reaver, polar opposites in their alignments. For the most part amongst their society, marriages occurred within the same elemental clan, which was probably why he sometimes felt so awkward.

"Come on!" Kerrog's voice rang out again, getting to the point where the young Archon in training was hopping up and down, his tail swishing back and forth in agitation.

"Alright, keep your robes on, little brother." Came Phoenix's calm voice as he descended the stairs of the home, a smile upon his furry visage.

The elder Lostarrs would meet them at the Arena, as there were a few things that they had to do beforehand, so they trio left the house, stepping out onto the street of Qualistia, the capital city of the Precursor civilization.

It was a bustling place, built in a strange, Neo-Romanist fashion of columns and marble covered metal stretching thousands of feet into the air, a perfect blend of tradition with modern technology. With the exception of heavy industrial transports streaking overhead, there was no traffic, as the advent of intraplanetary teleportation gates had long ago made private repulsor lift vehicles obsolete relics of a bygone era, and it also made pedestrian fears of being mowed down a thing of the past as well. More advantages came from the fact that the gates were free, reliable, and barring the occasional feeling of nausea from the odd person, completely safe.

The nearest gate was about a half mile away from where they were, and so the young boys walked at a brisk pace, not wishing to be late for such an important event.

Looking around, Tarath could see people of all social statuses moving about to there various destinations, mingling amongst each other.

Precursian society, very much unchanged since their early tribal days, was composed of several different 'ranks,' though in truth, there wasn't much difference among them and no one caste was really above another, as each had their own very important role to play. There were the 'workers,' the scientists, technicians, and the like, that kept their civilization moving ever onward and upward, as well as the teachers that were responsible for training the next generation and those few who were required to keep the mechanized farming equipment up and running.

There were also artisans and writers, keeping their culture alive and flourishing with new sculptures, paintings, plays and poetry, always striving to brighten the soul of his kind.

Not to mention the group that was necessary for all societies to function properly, the politicians. They were the ones responsible for the delegations of the scientific and technological projects carried out, and for just about everything else that their civilization required to keep moving forward.

Then there was his caste, the warriors.

For the most part, their roles in society were very much ceremonial, keeping alive the old traditions of the tribe champions. Indeed, he was inwardly proud of the fact that he himself could trace his heritage back to a couple of hundred years before the Great Unification. However, his brain was always there to remind his ego that in the long run, that didn't make much of a difference. The Lostarrs were among those whose skills had been learned after the end of the wars, and he'd still seen Kerrog and Phoenix give their share of thrashings to older families.

Such were the wonders of modern technology.

Furthermore, they had always been told as children to never look down upon those who were of another social grouping, and to try and increase this harmony, all younglings of all upbringings were trained to a slight degree in the arts of the other castes. As a result, he could handle a hydro-spanner or a fission splicer with an average degree of skill, knew something of political science and economics, and had found out the hard way that the soul of a poet was something he most certainly did not have. Above all though, he was a fighter, it was his calling, his family's time honored tradition of service, and he was proud to be one of them.

Warriors also served as police and guards, as despite all their efforts, crime was still an occasional problem. However, the sight of one of the warrior caste, who were intimidating enough in their armor, never mind if they should be walking about in a combat form, which made them almost three times the height of a normal person, usually deterred most would be irritants to society. The exception to this being the Arbiters, who predominately found themselves as the doctors and healers of the people, as their powers were far more in tune with that calling, though they still participated in mock combats.

Warriors also functioned as part time entertainers, as this tournament was sure to draw a large crowd, since literally every warrior in the city, from the lowest Adept to the Praetors themselves, was going to be participating.

* * *

The young Reaver stretched slightly, popping his back as he stepped out of the infusion chamber, responsible for pumping his systems full of concentrated Dark Eco, ensuring that he would be at his full combat potential in the next round.

The tournament had been going on for hours, and he had claimed twelve victories in his group. This had landed him in the finals, the furthest that he had ever gotten. However, as fate would will it, Phoenix had also beaten every one of his foes, meaning that the two of them would be squaring off against each other. Brother against brother. It would make things interesting, to say the least.

The tournaments might have seemed a little strange to an outsider, as rather than putting everyone into their own elemental group, the pairings were completely random, with no thought given to different classes clashing. Templars fought Archons, and Reavers Dragoons on a regular basis, even the Arbiters might find themselves being paired up against a Zealot. While this might have seemed a tad bit unfair, as the various classes relied on different styles of fighting, the warriors merely shrugged and said how it taught them to be more prepared for real combat, as in battle, it was highly unlike that the warriors would be able to pair off against someone of their own alignment like choosing a partner for a dance.

He let out a sigh, and started taking a long walk towards the double doors that would lead him out into the combat arena. Nervous would not have begun to describe the feelings coursing through him at that moment. Never before had he managed to get this far, which would have made defeat all the more painful, to have come so far, only to fall short in the end. On the other hand, he tried to cheer himself up by thinking about the fact that no matter who won today, there was going to be quite a bit of celebrating in the Lostarr household over the next couple of days.

The fact that Kerrog had made it to the finals in the Adept division probably made it to where his adoptive parents were beside themselves with pride and admiration.

The doors drew closer, and Tarath concentrated. A black sphere suddenly surrounded the whole area, and when it cleared, he stood, combat ready. At eight feet, ten and a half inches, he had something of a height advantage over most of the other warriors, but he had learned long ago that intimidation was just one part of a many piece puzzle that you had to have completed to ensure victory over your adversary. One also had to have skill, knowledge of one's adversary, and the flexibility required to change tactics at a moments notice.

The doors opened, and the roar of the crowd was deafening as he stepped into the arena, separated from the stands by large, and rather thick, slabs of transparasteel, a revolutionary invention created some six decades prior that made such live contests possible, as with energy blasts flying about, it would have been stupid beyond all comprehension to not have such protective measures in place.

The cheering reached a crescendo as he walked out to the center, and he stared around at the audience, his gaze once again settling upon his family, before drifting over to one of the box seats, in which Executor Xadec Thas sat, his brown eyes staring down at the young warrior. Tarath placed his left hand, balled up into his fist, into the palm of his right, holding them horizontally parallel to his chest as he bowed before the leader of his kind.

Then, Phoenix entered from the opposite side, and performed the same bow, first towards the Executor, and then again towards his adoptive sibling, a gestured that the Reaver in training returned. They then walked to the other side of the combat arena while the announcer called out a few points and accomplishments of both combatants.

Once that was done, both of them flicked their blades into attack position, waiting for the signal, arched forward on their toes. Inside his helmet, Tarath licked his suddenly dry lips, and took a few deep breaths, watching, waiting.

The signal came, a loud 'ding' from the bell, and both of them shot towards each other, their weapons cocked back and battle cries upon their tongues. So fast did their feet move, that some wondered if they weren't already flying.

In less than two second's time, the two siblings crossed the hundred feet that separated them from each other, and crossed weapons. Tarath's warp blade came down from a mighty swing, meeting Phoenix's upstroke halfway through, and the two began a strength contest. Warp blade scraped against cryosis sword, as the Archon and the Reaver struggled to overcome each other. The dark armored brother growled, narrowing his eyes, realizing that this was getting them nowhere fast.

An idea came to him, and with a burst of strength, he shoved Phoenix's weapon down and to the left, before pushing off of the ground and bringing both of his two toed feet slamming against the helmet of his brother. Caught off guard, the Archon stumbled backwards, breaking the blade lock and leaving himself wide open for an offensive drive.

Fully intending to capitalize upon his advantage, Tarath charged up a ball of Dark Eco in his left hand, before sending it at his opponent. The use of powers was not forbidden in the arena, however, charging up to a point in which such an attack would have been lethal was, and doing so would result in the warrior being stripped of his honor and his rank. In a civilization where honor was the basis of everything that the warrior caste did, such a fate was worse than death, hence why fatalities were rare indeed. As a mater of fact, there had been no record of anyone being killed in these contests since well before the time of the Great Unification.

Phoenix, stunned as he was, had enough sense about himself to realize what was likely about to happen, and instinctively held up his own hand. A shimmering, translucent barrier appeared around him moments later. The dark bomb attack struck against it, and a shadowy explosion occurred. However, moments later, from the fading vapors, Phoenix came blasting out, his blunted weapon cocked back and ready for a strike.

Tarath brought his own weapon up to meet the strike, swatting it aside and then following through with a wickedly powerful uppercut style attack, which blunted as it was, came within inches of sending his sibling's voice into the tenor range. However, Phoenix jumped back and up, evading the strike with nigh effortless ease. He didn't land though, opting to use his abilities to hover in mid air for a split second, before angling himself forward and blasting towards his adversary.

The Reaver in training saw the attack coming, and ducked beneath the strike, rolling backwards and pushing off the ground with his hands, his feet pointed straight out. A moment later, he felt them connect with something and heard a loud 'oof.' The dark armored warrior twisted about as he righted himself in mid air, and saw to his surprise, Phoenix hovering in the middle of the arena, clutching at his stomach.

Tarath was more than a little confused at this, realizing that his blow had indeed connected. He had intended for it to be something that would force his adoptive sibling to keep some distance while he got ready to attack again, he could never have foreseen the Archon actually falling for such an amateur trick, and he couldn't help but wonder if his crafty brother was trying to lure him into a false sense of security.

Nonetheless, he rose up into the air as well, waiting and watching for Phoenix to make the first move, studying every detail of the white armored Precursor's mid air stance, trying to read for a weakness or something he could exploit.

His scanning was cut short an instant later as the Archon shot back at him, screaming ferally at the top of his lungs. Focusing, Tarath fired off a few bolts of Dark Eco lightning at his foe, and not surprisingly, Phoenix easily spun out of the way, lashing out with an offensive attack of his own. A pulsing ball of Light Eco appeared in his hand, which quickly became a decently sized beam, lighting up the arena as it shot towards the Reaver. However, a well timed barrel roll got him out of the way of the attack, which dissipated as it connected with the transparasteel at the far end of the arena.

The two met moments later at break neck speed. The Reaver's warp blade and the Archon's cryosis sword connected for a brief moment, before both warriors attempted another strike. Tarath went up and over, Phoenix down and under, where the two weapons clashed again, crossing each other midway through their strokes. As fast as he could, the dark armored brother broke off his attack, and spun about in the air, bringing his scythe like weapon around and aiming for his brother's chest, a blow that surely would have left a mark had it connected.

However, Phoenix was fast enough to get his own weapon up in time to block the strike, and once again a blade lock ensued amongst the two siblings, sparks flying as light and dark vied for control of the battle. With the grunt, Tarath broke the lock and backed off for a second, calling upon his powers, summoning dark lightning to his aid, while Phoenix opted for a more defensive tactic, raising his shield once again in an attempt to outlast his brother.

Time seemed to slow in a dramatic way, as it always did during such stalemates. Faintly, both could hear the crowd cheering, urging their favored warrior on to victory. From behind his visor, Tarath's crimson eyes narrowed, and he growled, focusing his powers to a slightly greater degree, trying to shatter the Eco shield that his sibling had around himself. Much to his surprise, it took only the slightest increase in power to succeed in accomplishing his objective, and some of it coursed its way over the white armored Precursor as his protection faded.

A growl of pain could clearly be heard as Phoenix flew backwards, trying to put some distance between himself and his foe. The Reaver stopped his attack as well, frowning behind his helmet. It had been far too easy for him to shatter that shield his brother had erected, which caused him to theorize that Phoenix was attempting one of two possible scenarios. The first was that he was indeed attempting to lure him into a false sense of confidence, which was very feasible, seeing as how Phoenix had long demonstrated a masterful grasp of tactical and strategic manners of thought. The other…well that was something that Tarath would simply not stand for.

Still, only one way to find out which goal his adversary was aiming for, and while it was risky, it was better to be safe than to be sorry with this much at stake.

Deciding on a course of action, the dark armored Ancient jetted forward, his warp blade cocked back and his dreadlocks flying about wildly as he streaked towards his opponent.

As he closed the distance to melee range, easily dodging a couple of energy ray styled attacks, he hesitated for a split second. An untrained eye would have never detected the pause, never seen the flaw, indeed, the audience missed it almost entirely, and even those who did pick it out simply assumed it was an adrenaline induced mistake. However, Tarath and Phoenix had sparred against each other long enough to practically be able to know each other's moves by sheer memory, and had learned to capitalize upon even the smallest weakness as a result. Thus, when the Reaver in training did not receive a blunted cryosis sword to the gut, he knew full well what his adoptive sibling was up to, and it caused his unseen eyes to once again grow to slits as their blades locked once again, and got up in each other's faces.

"What in the nine hells are you doing, Phoenix?" he hissed, so quietly that none could hear him above the scraping noise of their weapons.

"What's it look like, brother?" the Archon responded calmly, doing his best to make it look like he was struggling. "You deserve this victory more than I do, you want it more, I've seen you driving yourself past the point of exhaustion to prepare for it."

"And because of that, I want to earn this victory, not have it handed to me simply because I spent a few more hours shadow sparring!" Tarath growled. "So stop trying to throw the match, brother, or I swear to the gods, I'll forfeit here and now!"

"Never willing to take the easy road for once, eh?" his sibling whispered in a warm way, right before he broke off the blade lock.

He flew up some twenty odd feet, before whipping his mounted weapon around a few times and assuming a combat stance. There was something different about him now, an almost perceptible aura, and the Reaver knew he'd managed to convince his adoptive brother that he wanted a for real fight.

Playtime was over.

The white armored Precursor shot down at him, appearing as nothing more than a blur through the air. The two siblings met again an instant later, blades clanging and hissing harshly through the air at each other as they slashed, chopped, thrust and spun, each seeking to penetrate the other's defenses.

It was in this, that the casual observer would have noticed one other thing about Precursian warfare that made them different from about ninety five percent of the rest of the sentient races in the known universe. For those ninety five percent, war was a matter of science, of developing bigger and better things that went bang, boom, or something of that nature. However, while it might have been true that the Precursors had certainly come a long way in technology, and were always looking for a means to improve, the way they fought was different. Precursors in battle were literally practicing the _art_ of warfare, for there was scarcely a better term to describe the manner in which they fought.

The movements of the two brothers were elegant and graceful, efficient and beautiful, and every bit as deadly as they were pretty to watch.

Phoenix dove towards the ground, spinning about as he did so in an attempt to dodge a barrage of Dark Eco bolts that his dark armored twin sent streaking towards him. They impacted around the arena, causing superficial damage, and as Tarath rushed back down to meet him blade upon blade, the Archon prepared himself. He pulled his legs in close around himself and pulled his arms down around his waist. Light Eco pulsed and shimmered around his combat form, and Tarath just managed to check his rush in time to avoid being nailed by what came next.

With a feral cry, Phoenix unfolded from his stance, the power he had Channeled coursing down the length of his cryosis sword, and it trailed off behind his weapon like the white, fiery tail of a comet as the Archon spun about, moving like a gyroscope in midair, tumbling vertically as he did so, making the trail look almost like a sphere that was being unraveled. The trail flew out away from him, and had the fight been for real, anything within about twenty five feet would have been hurting. As it was, a frantic back flip propelled the Reaver away from the area of the attack. Nonetheless, it would take more than a burst attack like that to cow him, and the moment the stream had dissipated, he streaked back in, ready to take back the offensive from his sibling.

For many minutes, the battle raged back and forth, neither brother every holding the edge for long. Nonetheless, all battles have a close, and after a time, the ending to that one had drawn nigh.

Even though he was no longer pulling his punches, Phoenix barely managed to get his cryosis sword up in time to deflect the vicious uppercut that Tarath sent at him. No sooner did he block that then he was forced to duck beneath a pair of armored feet that came streaking in towards him. As the Reaver in training passed over the top of him, the Archon performed a mid air back flip, and brought his own feet rushing down towards his brother, ready to slam them into the dark armored Precursor's ribs. However, Tarath hadn't earned his reputation as one of the premier up and coming soldiers for no reason, and barrel rolled out of the way, avoiding the attack by a fraction of a second.

As he lacked any of Phoenix's defensive powers, Tarath naturally was quick to renew his assault upon his adoptive sibling, not wishing to put himself at a disadvantage. He jetted back towards his foe, a battle cry upon his tongue and small orbs of Dark Eco flying from his left hand as he prepared himself for a devastating assault. Not surprisingly, the white armored Ancient was able to easily dodge the attacks, which didn't surprise the dark brother by any great degree, they had only been distractions and deceptions after all.

The Reaver in training was making it appear as though he was going for the standard, run of the mill tactic of using ranged attacks until he was within melee distance, during which time he would use his warp blade. The main reason behind this was though the powers came readily enough, to use them still required a very high degree of concentration, and so using them when someone was trying to carve you up was rarely a good thing to attempt to do. However, there were a few who had been able to multitask to that degree in times past.

The training he had put him self through in practice rounds against training drones to do such a thing had been some of the most punishing times of his young life. Still, this trump card was not a guaranteed victory, as he still had to wait for the opportune moment, and any slip up, however minute, would be disastrous, and he had little doubt would seal his failure.

For a few more seconds, he and Phoenix traded blows, their Metatron weapons appearing as mere blurs through the air as the crowd watched, even the Praetors leaning forward in their seats as they watched with heightening anticipation the drama unfolding down in the combat arena.

Phoenix, an ancient battle cry tearing its way loose from his throat, cocked his right arm back and shot it forward, a thrusting attack that would have doubtlessly given Tarath a very nasty bruise had his black armored sibling not spun out of the way in time. Swatting the blade aside, the Reaver in training held back, forcing himself to hold out for just a few more seconds as his brother spun around completely, trying to use his built up momentum to shatter his defenses.

He ducked beneath the strike, and as Phoenix turned it into a massive downward swing, the dark armored Ancient struck, lashing out with the warp blade on his right arm, while diverting as much concentration and focus as he could muster into his left fist, willing the dark lightning to come forth and end the match here and now.

Much to the surprise of everyone, the multi attack worked.

Caught completely off guard, his sibling could do nothing to stop of defend against the purplish bolts of electricity that suddenly began to shoot out from the tips of his fingertips. The coursed over the surface of Phoenix's armor, and the Archon let out a scream, falling back slightly in the air as the pain flooded his nervous system. The attack ended swiftly, as Tarath didn't wish to overplay his hand, but stunned and shocked as he was, Phoenix never made a move to stop the blow.

A crushing chop came down upon the right shoulder of the white armored Precursor, and everyone present could hear the cracking of bone, knowing that had the weapon been a combat grade one, Tarath would have just cut his brother in twain.

As it was, it merely sent him plummeting towards the ground, some forty feet below.

He landed, hard, and groaned, trying to get back to his feet, but knowing in his heart that the match was over.

Tarath landed a moment later, placing his blunted weapon against throat of his sibling, who yielded. The Reaver then gently helped his brother up, and hobbled however to the exit to the preparation room, where a couple of Arbiters were always on standby duty in the event that a medic should be needed.

"Nice one there, brother." Phoenix muttered, pain distorting his voice slightly, though he was doing his best to shake it off.

"You didn't do too bad yourself, Phoenix." Tarath conceded, mentally reviewing the fight, knowing just how close his adoptive sibling had come to winning.

As the two hobbled off, cheering filled the stands, music to the Reaver's ears. Pride filled his soul at his accomplishment, but he was quick to remind himself that this would only mean more pressure to perform in future tournaments.

And the competition would be gunning for him.

* * *

About half an hour had passed, and both he and Phoenix sat in the stands next to their parents, though he was still clad in his armor, as it was only fitting that he wore it once the award ceremony got underway.

However, he was hardly thinking about that right now. Instead, the majority of his attention was focused once again upon the combat arena, where Kerrog was busy scrapping it out with his own competition. Clad in red armor, Nira Stanak, the former year's champion, charged at the Archon, her psion claws poised to land a couple of bone crushing blows upon the Adept.

The young Lostarr's cryosis sword was quick to intercept both strikes, but Nira, undeterred, spun around and delivered a punishing kick straight to his chest, blasting him backwards off of his feet and crashing into the wall of the arena. Tarath couldn't help but wince, knowing that blow had probably cracked his little brother's rib cage at the very least. Nonetheless, Kerrog was apparently able to stomach the pain, as he flipped back up to his feet, and then took to the air as Nira rushed back towards him, a war cry resonating throughout the stadium. Using all of the massive strength that she had at her disposal, the Zealot leapt into the air, and rose thirty feet up, before swinging both of her weapons towards her foe.

Kerrog back flipped out of the way of the assault, which would have doubtless broken his legs from the force behind the swing. However, as gravity began to take its hold upon the crimson armored warrior, she took one last shot. Extending her palms towards the white armored Precursor, the audience watched as the air in front of the young Zealot began to distort and waver, before bursting into flames. As she began to fall, Nira launched the pyrokinetic attack.

With an oath, the Archon in training executed a mid air dash to get out of the way, but was unable to escape the attack completely, The flames washed over him, turning his armor from white to a nice gray as it was partially cooked by the intense heat.

Kerrog was lucky that use of lethal force wasn't allowed, Tarath thought to himself as a lull came in the fighting. After all, they'd all seen holocrons showing master Zealots using their pyrokinesis to turn solid rock into a liquid state.

However, the young Lostarr had a few abilities of his own, and here, floating some fifty feet above the floor of the combat arena, he was able to use them without fear of interruption or retaliation. Focusing, he felt within himself and called forth one of his powers, and became bathed in a gentle, blue-white glow. He felt his injuries slowly beginning to mend themselves, muscle and sinew and bone stitching itself back together.

That was one thing that was strange about Archons. While they were not the particular 'masters' at anything, as Zealots could take more punishment, Dragoons react faster, Templars blast better, Arbiters heal more efficiently, and Reavers could simply overwhelm them if they went all out with a combination of Channeling and blade skills, they could do a little bit of everything. This could make them rather tricky to deal with in the event of a warrior finding them as an opponent. That was one reason Tarath had pressed his attacks so viciously, so as not to give Phoenix the time needed to heal up and put the fight back to square one.

Nira, however, lacked the flight abilities of her foe, and growled to herself as she realized what he was doing. Still, that was the fourth time Kerrog had had to patch himself up, and the young Archon knew he didn't have the power to spare for another. If he wanted to come out on top, he needed to finish this now.

But how to do it? Zealots could put up with an almost ungodly amount of abuse before they finally went down, and with a second weapon, she had an edge on him in melee combat. Furthermore, Zealots were capable of pushing themselves into an almost berserker like state from time to time, in a state where they were stronger, tougher and from practically all experimental data, pretty much did not feel pain.

Then, an idea came to the young Adept, and he realized what he had to do to come out on top of this battle. He dashed forward, straight at the crimson armored warrior, who promptly crossed her claws and braced herself, waiting for the attack that she expected.

However, that particular attack never came.

Instead of charging straight at her, Kerrog altered his path just slightly at the very last possible second. This had the result of sending him straight into the ground. However, his forward momentum had built up to a sufficient degree by that time for him to skid right between the spread legs of the Zealot, who relaxed her stance just slightly as she thought her foe had screwed up his dive.

Too late, Nira realized her error just as Kerrog jumped up behind her, and brought his blunted cryosis sword down on her back with enough force to make her eat dura-crete. The Zealot attempted to rise, but as she did so, felt the weapon against the back of her neck. In that instant, Nira realized her reign as Arena Champion of the Adepts was over. Still, stinging and shameful as the defeat was, she had to admit, she had been well and truly bested. However, that did not stop her from making a mental note never to fall for that trick again.

Up in the stands, the crowds erupted into cheers, four in particular standing out as the Lostarr family whooped and hollered at the top of their lungs, exchanging hugs with each other, unable to believe that they'd taken both of the younger divisions on that day.

Down in the combat arena, Kerrog stepped away from the fallen Nira, and with a triumphant cry, pointed his blade skyward, unable to believe that he himself had done so well.

* * *

The celebration that night had been a grand one indeed, Tarath could recall. However, the memory was a two edged sword, it was both a soothing balm and a fiery poison, a comforting solace and an ever bleeding wound. On the one hand, it reminded him of his innocent youth, before the horrors of the great civil war had changed that. On the other, it was a painful reminder of how much he had lost. Both adoptive parents dead in the war, one brother had the hands of the Hora-quan, and the other one now a mortal enemy.

It was then that the dark armored Ancient did something he hadn't done in millennia. He popped the seal on his helmet, revealing his scarred and mutilated face, and closed his eyes, real and artificial alike, before a single tear was able to squeeze its way out of his normal one. That single drop quickly became a torrent, as the Praetor broke down and wept like a child.

He wept for Kerrog, who had fallen so far, for the brother he feared he would have to destroy. He wept for Phoenix, whom he had not been able to save. He wept for his people, so utterly torn apart and decimated by all that had happened, and had yet to. He cried for the elves, who it seemed, would once again suffer for the sins of his people.

One tear he also shed for himself, for the failure he had been his whole life. Every time it had really mattered, he had come up short, had not been good enough.

He had been weighed, he had been measured, and he had been found wanting.

* * *

Millions of kilometers away from what was going on down on Gaia, a white armored Precursor stood on the center of the Day Star's command bridge, more specifically, he was eyeing a pair of holotanks, in which his groundside commanders were making their reports.

"So, the attack went as planned?" He inquired, scratching at his orange furred chin.

"It did indeed, my lord." Said the first of the two, Dao'Drac, the leader of the Hora-quan's forces. "It happened as our new ally said it would, and we now have a good number of the pointy eared freaks pinned down in the Harbor area of the city."

"However, victory is not ours yet." Said the second one, who appeared as a hooded and cloaked figure in the right holotank. This lieutenant was also unusual, as he lacked any physical form whatsoever. However, being an A.I., his mental capacities more than made up for it.

"Explain what you mean, Grendel." Kerrog asked, wishing to know the four one one on what was happening.

"A Lockdown was initiated approximately forty five minutes into the counter attack, just as our forces were ready to push into the Residential Sectors and conquer the city in its entirety." The construct replied, irritation present in his voice.

"Can you bring it down?" the Archon asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Not from where I am…" he began.

"That's because the activation programs can only be accessed directly from the central network core." A new voice interjected.

All present turned to see Errol walking in, clad in his own black battle armor, his red hair flying about wildly and his glowing, slitted eyes boring into all that were in the room. Kerrog acknowledged his entrance with a nod of his head.

"Ah, Errol," he said, a faint smile present on his face, "I was hoping you would come. I want to extend my thanks to you for sharing with us you knowledge of elven battle tactics, as it has made this victory possible with a minimum of casualties to our own forces."

"Don't thank me." The Ascended Channeler growled, barring his teeth in a manner that reminded the Fallen leader of an animal. "I'm doing this for myself, and I care nothing for your cause. I simply want vengeance and to be placed in charge of Haven once you're through tearing it apart."

"And I assure you that once I have given my word, that I shall honor it." Kerrog responded to the man, not at all intimidated by the fact that the former K.G. commander towered over him at the moment. "Unlike your kind, we Precursors do not use our allies and then toss them out with the trash once they have fulfilled their part of a bargain."

With that, the Executor turned back to his two commanders, and began going over further battle strategies and plans for the future.

* * *

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Alright, there's where I'm going stop it, and I hope I managed to pull this one off to the liking of you readers out there. In the next chapter, expect to see Jak getting back into the action, and a heap of Veger torture.

Also, I need to ask something of you good people. I've been having trouble trying to think up what Keira's 'Ascended Form' is going to look like. For a long time, I have been thinking of gong with something that has something of a draconic undertone to it, but is still clearly humanoid in nature and still possesses the 'angelic' features we all know and love from Jak's Light Form, but there are a few thinks I'd like to pin down, and I'm running out of ideas. If anyone has a suggestion, or something else of that nature, I would be most grateful. (starts muttering curses about lack of own creativity)

If you have any other comments, constructive criticisms, flames, ideas, or questions, feel free to ask, as responding to these reviews is actually one of the highlights of the week, just be certain to leave me an e-mail address with which I can link back up with you, should this rumor prove to be true, as I would hate for someone to ask me something and me not be able to answer for fear of having my story deleted. (glares in direction of administration)

Thanks again to everyone for your time, and I hope that you have a great week.


	10. Comradery

(Materializes, a scowl visible underneath his cowl)

Hello to you all, I hope your having a good time, as this has been one of those weeks for me, with my exams starting this week and not ending until next, as I have had eight tests this week and I can expect another four in the coming one. However, enough about my griping.

For those of you who reviewed and left me a link to get back up to you, whether it was your account or an e-mail address, I hope that I succeeded in getting my messages out to all of you, as this is my first time using this new method of doing things. For those of you who didn't please do so in the future so I can answer your questions on a more personal level.

To answer some general questions, Keira's wings will stay the same as Jak's were in the third game, mostly because they will function as weapons on the battlefield, anyone whose seen the second Diablo game should know what I am talking about. Also, to everyone who did offer up ideas, I extend my humblest and sincerest thanks to you, as they really are a help.

To those who read but did not review, I thank you for the time you've taken out of your life to read this mediocre work, and I hope I haven't scarred anyone for life.

Lawyers: I no own, you no sue, got it?

That said, here is chapter ten, may the Veger bashing warm your hearts.

* * *

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* * *

Comradery

Silent as the desert night in which he flew, Kage glided back towards the temple that they had departed from. He too was in awe of the equipment that had been given to him. The armor and jumpsuit had obviously changed when the transformation had come, much as Kitetsu had. Now it was even more jagged than it had once been, with the plate layers of the gauntlets and the greaves he wore now sticking out while the areas between them glowed purple. Also notable were the veins of energy that still pulsed across the chest region. There were also slits now to accommodate his wings and the four foot long tail growing from his back. Strangest of all though, was the helmet.

The forward part of the mask had disappeared, allowing for his slight muzzle to extend out. The visor was still present, but now it was clear, allowing for his crimson eyes to be seen even past the myriad of flashing symbols and various other HUD items. As for the rest of the helm, it had lengthened out slightly in the back, and a pair of ridges now extended up from the edges of the top, running along the outside of his horns, probably to provide protection for them, while Daxter had informed him of something that could only be described as a ridge of spins ran down the back of it.

All in all, if the oni hadn't been scary enough before, he would like be able to send fear into the heart of even the bravest soul to stand against him.

'_Hey,' _came the voice of his host from within his mind, '_the temple's getting close, better go in for a landing.'_

'**_As you wish.'_** His guardian devil responded.

This landing occurred without incident, and Daxter quickly hopped down off of where he'd been holding on while Kage placed the gear they'd brought down, and the ottsel promptly proceeded to kiss the stone of the temple walls. However, he stopped when he noticed that Kage has stiffened, his feet digging into the rock that he was standing on. His taloned hand slipped down to where Kitetsu was kept, and he walked over to the edge, his hellfire eyes looking down into the ruin below. He was joined a moment later by Daxter, however, the ottsel couldn't see in the dark as well as the Dark Eco demon could, and so was clueless about what was going on. Nonetheless, experience had told him that when Kage got like that, it meant one of two things. First, that there was about to be some serious fighting going on, or secondly, that something was amiss.

"I don't believe it." the oni growled as he stared through a zoomed in visor.

Some three or four hundred feet below, Seem was standing in the dark. While one might have reasoned that she had come out here herself to see what had happened to her fellows, the presence of another elf next to her certainly ruled out that possibility.

It was Veger.

Kage's first thought was to jump off of the edge and soar down, screaming at the top of his lungs, giving the Count the true meaning of the word fear. However, Jak was quick to overrule that, as while his own hatred towards the council chairman might have been burning white hot within his soul, his curiosity got the better of him. A plan was hatched, and Kage quickly gave control back over to his host, who smiled wickedly behind the mask of his helmet.

"What's going on?" his diminutive companion suddenly whispered, knowing that keeping his voice down would probably be a good idea.

"Seem's down there, chatting with Veger…" Jak began.

That was as far as the dark elf got before his friend interrupted him.

"Veger?" the ottsel hissed, confusion and explosive anger present in his voice. "What's that prick doing out here?"

"I'm going to find out." The Ascended Channeler growled, before focusing his powers.

A second later, his furry friend watched as Jak, armor and all, faded into a slight blur, and began to make his way down a stone ramp towards the ground. He was as quiet as the beating of an owl's wing, a shadow amongst the darkness as he rapidly made his way down, before he moved behind and leaned against a column. Completely oblivious to this, the other two elves carried on their conversation. Unfortunately, the dark elf caught only the tail end of the conversation.

"I want no more excuses," Veger growled, arrogance dripping from every syllable that he spoke, "you told me this could be done, now make it so!"

"But we have so little time, many of my fellows have vanished," Seem said, shaking her head in apology. "And the Day Star approaches, I have told you what it brings!"

"All the more reason for us to pick up the time table." Veger returned coolly. "I'll keep Ashelin and the rest of those idiots busy in Haven. Just get me and my men access to those catacombs and I can guarantee that you will meet those whom you seek."

"I shall do my best." the monk said.

There was a sudden flash of yellow on his motion sensor, and he realized that Seem was walking off. He watched the sensor for a few moments, until she was out of range, and then he leaned forward slightly, watching what was happening out of the right side viewing screen of his helmet.

The monk clambered up into a small, four wheeled buggy, and took off into the night.

Once she was gone, Veger simply shook his head and muttered something under his breath, before heading out as well, and now that he looked, Jak could see a Freedom Guard transport craft that was apparently empty. He couldn't head back to Haven, as more infighting was the last thing that they needed, but that didn't stop him from making his presence known. Besides, knowledge was the deadliest weapon that a warrior could wield…

'**_Oh, this is going to be fun.'_ **Kage remarked, rubbing his hands together gleefully as he realized what his host was up to.

Looking down, he saw a rock that was near his feet. Thinking quickly, he scooped it up, and let it fly. It easily flew through the air until it smacked against another column with a loud cracking noise. The instant he did so, he darted out from behind the column he was hiding behind, noticing on the sensor screen to his right that Veger instantly spun about and drew a pistol that he had hidden upon himself.

"Who's there!" he shouted, a snarl in his tone.

He turned one more, exactly as the dark elf had predicted, his eyes peering about, trying futilely to pierce the shadows of the night. It was in times such as this that a man's mind could start to play tricks upon him, that he could perceives ghosts and wraiths that lurked in the dark corners of his mind. Most unfortunately for Veger, one such night terror was about to make itself manifest.

Like an expertly trained assassin, Jak snuck up behind his target, practically invisible to the untrained eye. Step for step, he followed the Count as he cautiously looked around, realizing that he was not alone out here. The council chairman quietly cursed his decision to come alone. He had a few body guards under his employ, after all, men loyal to him and him alone.

His train of thought was suddenly derailed by the sound of scuffling feet behind him. An oath upon his lips, the elf spun about, his blaster leveled and ready to fire. However, the only thing he saw as he did so, were the darkened walls of the temple, which seemed to whistle eerily as a desert wind blew against them. He licked his lips in an attempt to moisten them, and tried to fight back the fear that was growing within him.

And he failed utterly as the air in front of him suddenly moved, a hissing sound emanating from it. There was a slight shrieking noise as his blaster suddenly became two different pieces, the whole part of it in front of the trigger guard suddenly falling towards the ground. Scarcely had his mind been able to register that, than the breath in his lungs was suddenly removed as what felt like a sledgehammer struck him in the gut. As he hunched forward, he felt a similar sensation from the side of his face, and he was suddenly aware of the fact that he was face first down in the dirt. What he couldn't see was the boot print shaped mark on the side of his visage that was going to develop into a nasty bruise.

Quickly as he could, he got over on his back and looked up. Horror and dread filled his soul as he saw the air begin to shimmer and distort before him. Slowly, out of thin air, a suit of armor materialized, with a blade pointed right at the arrogant noble's face. Veger took one look at the sight in front of him, before he began whimpering and frantically scrambling backwards on his hands, trying to put distance between himself and his mysterious attacker.

Say what you will about demonic images painted onto a war helmet, or skulls carved into and embossed upon armor, any true warrior will tell you that there are few things in life more intimidating than an emotionless mask staring down at you. Cold, unfeeling, uncaring, which when combined with the right amount of theatrics and display of force, could make even the bravest quiver in fear.

However, Veger was not to be numbered among the bravest, and Jak stopped short for a moment, as he noticed a conspicuous stain forming on the councilman's trousers, growing larger by the second. It was all he could do not to break out into laughter.

The Count was hardly aware of his loss of bodily functions, as absurd thoughts made their way through his head. He knew what that armor was in front of him, knew who it belonged to, and feared in some corner of his mind that Mar had returned to haunt him for some reason. His mouth opened and shut several times in rapid succession, and sounds normally associated with a child who had not learned how to speak yet came from him.

Unfortunately, the moment was broken a second later when Daxter, who had finally made his way down form the upper levels, entered the scene.

"Hey, Jak," he cried out, "what's going…on?" He paused and looked about at the scene before him, before trying, and failing, to hold back laughter.

"You!" Veger hissed, indignation present in his eyes.

He made a move to get up, but a slight jab forward literally placed Kitetsu against the tip of his oversized nose, and he quickly reached the decision that attempting to move would not be the wisest of ideas.

"You should have realized that I'm a hell of a lot stronger than this place, Veger." Jak snarled softly, his voice full of venom. "Now, give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you. After all, we're alone out here; no one will ever be the wiser."

A gulp left Veger's throat, and fear clenched even tighter around his heart.

"But," the dark elf continued, "then…I'm not a murderer."

The Count went to breathe a sigh of relief, when Jak reached down and ripped him off of the ground, his vampiric strength allowing for him to easily hold the councilman off the ground with one hand, while the other place Kitetsu against his neck. The glowing purple runes cast an eerie light, and Veger could see his own terrified face staring back at him from the visor.

"Although," Jak said, letting the Blade of Mar drift downward, "death isn't the only way this could turn out." He then lifted Veger a little higher, and shook him slightly. "What were you doing out here meeting with Seem?"

"The monk?" Veger stammered, squirming in the unbreakable grip that the Ascended Channeler held him in. "She's promised to grant us access to some catacombs out here in the Wasteland." He paused, fear overwhelming him as he stared down into the dark, mirrored visor once again. "Supposedly, it holds a wealth of information on the Precursors, information that could be used to stop the coming apocalypse."

"So, you know about the Fallen Ones?" Jak growled, narrowing his slitted eyes. "How? And when the hell were you planning on telling the rest of us?"

"I found out about them from her, and what difference would it have made, freak?" he shot back, his tone more than a little self righteous. "Do you think that if the citizens of Haven knew the Fallen Ones were returning, that the people would have clamored for you to stay? That they would have begged on their knees for an unnatural freak such as yourself to save them?"

Veger's little taunting rant was quickly cut short, as he suddenly found himself airborne. There was a loud crack a moment later, as he hit a stone column and fell to the ground. He cried out in pain and clutched at his back, where he felt as if he had hurt something pretty badly. Glaring, he looked back up at the dark elf, and Jak returned the favor tenfold.

"Alive or not," the Count hissed, pain slightly distorting his voice. "I suggest that you get used to the sand that's around here. After all, if you attempt to return to Haven, I assure you that some of your friends might meet with some rather unfortunate accidents."

The words had barely left the mouth of the arrogant noble when another crack split the air, and Veger had a split second to wonder what was going on as he saw Dark Eco vapors suddenly envelope the dark elf. A moment later, a similar eruption happened in front of him, and from the mist came an armor plated boot, which crashed into his gut and sent him tumbling back out towards the entrance of the temple.

"Even threaten to do that again, Veger," Jak hissed, as he walked back over to him, leaning down in his face as he struggled to hold in enough air to keep his lungs full, "and I promise you, the hells themselves will tremble when they see what I do to you."

With that, the dark elf motioned for Daxter to come along, and the two of them left the Count to hobble back to his transport, and doubtless with a very interesting story to tell to his colleagues back home.

* * *

"Oh gods, did you see the look on his face when you were threatening him?" Daxter said as he hung on, laughing at the top of his lungs. "Oh man, that was priceless, I wish that I had had a camera!"

"Me too," Jak replied with a warm, if unseen, smile. "I guess we'll just have to settle for never allowing ourselves to forget it."

The two of them were traveling at top speed across the Wasteland, Daxter sitting on the front of the Sidewinder scouting bike, right between the handlebars, while Jak himself made a beeline for the city of Spargus. They had stopped just once, and that was for Jak to get ready for a bit of a prank that he planned to play upon the Wastelanders. As of right now, one would have had a hard time telling that he was wearing the Armor of Mar, as it was covered by his old electro-mesh robe, the only clue being the gauntlets and the very tip ends of the boots, which would be hard enough to distinguish in the early morning light. Both he and Daxter had discussed what they were to do, and both could hardly wait to see the reaction of the native populace to the dark elf now.

A trail of dust kicking up behind them, the two shot towards the main gate of Spargus, which was even now starting to come into view.

It took approximately two minutes for them to reach the gates, which opened as they approached.

However, what puzzled the dark elf and the ottsel most of all was the enormous bustle of activity that was raging on in the sand filled courtyard area. Wastelanders ran about loading up supplies onto one of the large transport vehicles that they had, while several others were wheeling out of the covered garage in the light dune buggies.

"Did we miss something?" Daxter inquired, his large eyes opening as wide as was possible as they searched about, wondering what was going on.

"Looks like it." his companion remarked.

Abruptly, Valthos and Kleiver came out, the former on a scouting bike, the latter in that medium sized green vehicle that Jak had seen him drive a few times before.

"There you are!" the Sand King remarked, a bit of relief carefully hidden in his voice.

"What's going on?" Jak remarked staring about, all thoughts of his and Daxter's little joke tossed aside for the moment.

"Our remote sensors are picking up a massive sandstorm heading this way." Kleiver stated, a note of desperation in his tone. "We're gearing up to head out, cause there are still a few of our mates that haven't reported back yet, and we ain't about to leave em out there to die!"

"So turn your bike around and head out with the rest of us." Valthos ordered, priming his own throttle before shooting out of the massive metal gates, his men close behind him.

The dark elf paused just long enough to head into the garage and set aside the bag full of repair components that Tarath had given to him, before turning back out heading off towards the rest of the pack at full speed.

* * *

He'd broken off from the main group about ten minutes ago, as they'd scattered after the various different signals coming from the beacons that the desert dwelling elves always carried with them.

The plan was simple: locate their comrades, salvage their vehicles and equipment if possible, and then get their rear ends back to the safety of the transport craft, as its heavily reinforced metal hull was strong enough to withstand the winds of the Wasteland, which would turn the grains of sand into knives that could easily flay skin and flesh from bones.

While in formation with the rest of the rescue team, Jak had used the time to program his helmet to recognize the Wastelander signals as friendlies, and had then patched himself through to Valthos, inquiring what the rest of the Wastelanders were doing out here in the first place. The rule of Spargus, so caught up in his desperation to save his men and women, did not think to wonder how the Ascended Channeler was talking to him, as he hadn't been issued a boom mike in the short time that he'd been living amongst them, had simply replied that they'd been sent out to hunt for artifacts, especially those that might be of Precursor origins.

Remembering what Tarath had said of the great battle that had occurred here some five thousand years ago, the dark elf wasn't surprised to find out that once buried beneath the shifting sands of the desert, the equipment that the Ancients used apparently lasted a very long time.

Still, he quickly yanked his mind back to his mission as he drew ever closer to the source of the signal. Daxter simply held on for dear life as the Sidewinder shot over the dunes at extremely high speeds, longing for the smooth travel of a hover bike again, as the ground based travel they were using now was a little bumpy, to say the least.

About three minutes passed, and finally, they crested the dune that led to where the signal was coming from.

What was in front of him was a mess.

A trashed dune buggy still smoldered off to one side, miscellaneous odds and ends of it scattered about in a fashion that indicated it had probably been nailed by a very potent weapon of some kind. The sand was also scorched and several areas had a shiny, reflective sheen to them, indicating that they'd been hit by something with enough energy to turn the particles into glass.

Lying in the center of the destruction, was a prone form.

Gunning the throttle of his scouting bike, Jak shot towards the downed Wastelander. Not even waiting for his bike to come to a full stop once he began to decelerate, he leapt off of the thing while he and Daxter rushed over towards the desert warrior. As he drew closer, the dark elf felt his eyes widen in shock as he saw who it was.

It was Seth, lying unmoving upon the sand.

The Ascended Channeler dropping to one knee as he reached the lanky Wastelander's side, and quickly placed his index and middle fingers against the side of the dark skinned elf's throat. For a second, he felt nothing, and then, much to his relief, a faint tremble from within.

"He's alive…barely." He muttered, relief swamping his voice.

'**_But if we don't get him stabilized soon, he won't be for much longer.' _**Kage, ever the pragmatic one, remarked inside of his mind, a frown upon his fanged visage.

'_You're right about that.' _Jak remarked, before looking over the Wastelander's body to try and assess the extent of his injuries.

Seth was a mess to say the least, his skin cracked and burnt, while several slashing wounds, that looked almost as if they had been done by a hook like mechanism, covered his torso. Off to one side, his sniper rifle lay, cut cleanly in half by whatever had done this to him.

It was then that something else caught his eye. He looked down, and saw that the elf's right fist was clenched around something. Reaching down, he gently and carefully pried the object out of the Wastelander's grasp, and felt his breath leave his lungs as he did so.

It was an Eco Crystal, shinning white against the dark armor that covered his hand.

Seth had found something very rare and very powerful out here, but it looked as if it had just about cost him his life to obtain it.

Which led back to the train of thought, as to what in the name of the Ancients had done this to Seth?

Unfortunately for both him and Daxter, they were about to find out.

'**_What the?' _**Kage exclaimed, and then Jak realized what it was his inner demon was sensing.

There was a faint rumbling that he felt through the Vibrium boots of his armor, and suddenly, the sand in front of them erupted upward, shooting into the air as the dark elf instinctively leapt away from whatever had caused it.

It was a good thing that he had done that, as his motion detector flashed, two streaks turning from green to yellow as a pair of dark colored cables, each with a claw like ending to them, came shooting out at him, snapping and trying to grab him. He twisted to the side to avoid them, drawing his blade and lashing out at them with the dark katana as they passed.

Kitetsu sheared through both of the offending appendages with little difficulty, and Jak landed flawlessly as the column of whirling sand finally dissipated, revealing a Fallen Precursor scouting probe. It withdrew the two limbs that had been damaged, their ends sparking and sputtering, before a pair of nasty looking blaster type weapons opened up from two compartments along the sides of the saucer shaped probe. Almost before he could begin to react, the thing fired at him, black and purple bolts of energy lacing out towards him.

As a reflex, the dark elf summoned a shadow blade from his weapon, and began whirling the two katanas in tandem with each other, deflecting the Dark Eco bolts away from himself, forgetting for the moment that such weaponry could not harm one such as he. At once, he realized what had fried Seth to the point at which he was, and he realized just how lucky the Wastelander was to have survived this long.

That also reminded him of just how quickly he needed to dispatch this thing and get the desert elf out of here. Not to mention there was that accursed sandstorm, which Jak could actually start to see forming at the very edge of the horizon.

Apparently realizing that its current tactic was not working on bringing down its foe, the probe ceased firing, and the blaster folded back into their holding compartments. The Ascended Channeler took this opportunity to hurl his phantom blade, and unleash a torrent of Dark Eco lightning at the probe. The shadowy twin to Kitetsu arced along the hull of the probe, scoring a deep gouge that severed circuits and power conduits, causing an electronic wail to come from the machine, amplified by the power overload it received when the purple lightning impacted upon it moments later. Catching the shadow blade as it arced back towards him a moment later; the dark elf smirked, feeling confident that he would emerge from this battle victorious.

However, the probe was far from finished, as Jak discovered the hard way a moment or two later, when another pair of tentacle like appendages came flying at him. He ducked underneath them as they went flying over head. This evasive maneuver had the added effect of causing his hood to fall back, which allowed for the sensors inside of his helmet to finally be able to get a good look at what was going on around him.

It was indeed fortunate that such a thing happened, as the lower screen on his HUD revealed that the robotic limbs were heading back towards him, their claw like ends gleaming in the sunlight. The dark elf tried to spin out of the way again, but this time he miscalculated the speed at which the things were moving. He heard a tearing sound, followed by a slight scraping, and knew that a hit had been scored. Fortunately for him, the Precursor forged armor that he'd been given held up.

Unfortunately for both parties involved in this fight, the same could not be said for the electro-mesh robe that Keira had made for him, and Jak watched as about half of the back portion of it dangled towards the ground, a large gash separating it from the upper portion of the suit.

"Uh-Oh." Daxter muttered, grimacing as Jak realized what the thing had done to the armor his wife had made for him.

It was a very apt statement for what was about to occur, as Jak, his reptilian eyes narrowed behind the visor, shrugged the ruined coat off, letting it fall to the sand as the machine brought its appendages back in for another attack. With a battle cry, he lunged forward to meet the strikes, and his own blades proved to be stronger than those of the machine's, as Dark Eco and Vibrium tore through the Metatron and alien circuitry that powered the appendages.

Not ceasing his assault, the Ascended Channeler dashed towards the probe, throwing his blades and then vaulting up into the air. The two katanas struck home as his aim proved true, cutting off the antennas that protruded from the top of the reconnaissance device, effectively cutting it off from the mother ship that it had come from. At the same time, the dark elf drew his in, crossing them over his chest and focusing his powers. Dark energy began to crackle along their length, and with a scream that was more akin to a roar of a predatory beast closing in for the kill, he unleashed a pair of dark bomb attacks and streaked towards the machine.

They hit home a moment later, filling the air with an explosion so great as to drown out all other sounds, and his visor and HUD screens suddenly became darker, shielding his eyes from the light of the blast. There was an electronic death wail from the machine, and the dark elf knew that he had been triumphant in this fight.

He hit the ground with his legs spread, and ducked down as far as he could as shrapnel went flying everywhere, some of it actually pinging off of the armor. Thankfully, though, those pieces were small enough that any damage done was superficial, and no warning lights or alarms came on inside of the helmet. He stood up as he surveyed the damage he had caused, sticking his hand out and catching Kitetsu almost as an afterthought.

He sheathed the blade quickly, and then turned his attention back to the downed Wastelander, who was, much to Jak's relief, still alive.

But that still left him with one problem: how he was going to get Seth out of here, as the Wastelander was in pretty bad shape, and the Ascended Channeler, while now medical expert, was pretty certain that laying him across the handlebars of his Sidewinder and trying to make his way back to the transport like that would not be a good thing to do.

Plus, time was not on their side, as both he and Daxter could see the storm billowing over the horizon towards him.

However, it appeared as though Lady Luck was finally going to give the two a break, as he heard a garbled radio transmission over the internal speakers of his helmet a moment later, and dashing over to his bike, noticed that someone else was closing in fast.

Not twenty seconds later, Kleiver shot over a sand dune and came barreling down towards them.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" the stocky elf shouted, looking out over the destruction, before noticing Seth's prone form. "Fierfek!" he exclaimed, jumping out of the driver's seat and rushing over to the other elf.

The quartermaster gave his comrade a quick one's over, before quickly and gently reaching down and picking him up, carrying him back over to the green vehicle that he'd been riding in, and placing him in the passenger seat.

Jak meanwhile, had taken the opportunity to retrieve the Light Eco Crystal that Seth had nearly died for, and at the same time, retrieved the remnants of his old armor. Without a moment to spare, he grabbed Daxter, and then he and Kleiver were shooting over the dunes in a frantic attempt to outrun the wrath of the desert, which by the looks of things, couldn't have been more than a half mile behind them, kicking up sand and dust as far as they could see.

* * *

It was dark inside the transport, and for the sake of not stumbling about, Jak had changed his helmet visor to its low light mode, bathing the world in a strange green glow.

The large vehicle was currently heading back to Spargus at full speed. By some miracle or another, the other Wastelanders had been retrieved without incident, having suffered from various forms of engine trouble or other such things. As for Seth, well, it looked as if the lanky Wastelander was going to survive, as they'd managed to get him stabilized for the moment. However, he would need the attention of Seem and the rest of her monks in order to recover fully.

They were almost back now, and the dark elf couldn't wait to get off of this moving crate.

Daxter had remained unusually quiet, and for some reason that was bothering the dark elf. He had asked his furry little friend about it, but Daxter had simply put on a smile and told him that he shouldn't worry about it, that he was just thinking about some things back home.

It had been so strange to hear him refer to Haven as his home, but the Ascended Channeler knew that a certain blond haired elf had gone a long way in making his ottsel companion feel that way.

What he didn't know was that while Daxter's thoughts had lingered upon Tess for some time, he was also mentally beating himself up for not being able to help out in the fight that they had just had.

It was all that Daxter could do not to let out a bitter sigh, as he remembered all the times that Jak had gone out of his way to save him, to protect him, and to watch over him like an older brother. The ottsel didn't hold it against his companion, but rather, he held it against himself, for continuing to be a liability.

Just for once, Daxter wished that he could have carried his own weight in a fight.

After all, Jak had his powers, Keira had a mind that she'd used to create a veritable armory of weapons that had saved them all at one time or another, Torn and Jinx had their Special Forces training, and even old Grandpa Green could hurl an energy bolt or two. So what did that leave him with? Nothing.

A loud rumbling and clanking noise yanked him out of his private thoughts, and he realized that they were back in the city at last. He heard Jak moving about in the dark, gathering up his equipment, and a couple of minutes later, light began to seep in as they entered the garage area of the city.

Seth was rushed out first, as Valthos and Kleiver hurried to get him to the area that the monk's occupied, making use of some underground tunnels that had been created to connect major areas of the desert city in the event of one of these storms.

After that, he had to help unload the vehicles from the transport craft, receiving more than a few awed stares as now that the frantic rush to save their comrades was over people finally seem to realize that the Ascended Channeler was clad in the armor of a living legend. The work took much longer than it should have because of this, the desert dwelling elves simply would not stop staring at Jak.

It was to be expected, as most of them had only glimpsed this armor once before, and even then it had only been partially complete; also it had most certainly not had purple veins of energy pulsing over its surface during that time period.

However, no smile of triumph or mirth made its way over the dark elf's hidden visage as they gawked at him. He was simply tired right now, as he'd been running around for the better part of thirty six hours, and he needed some rest.

Unfortunately, that was not to be the case, as a runner came along after about half an hour, right as they were through offloading the vehicles, saying that Valthos wanted to see both him and Daxter immediately.

Grumbling, the duo began to trek out, heading for the makeshift hospital that Seem and her fellows operated in their Monastery.

* * *

Okay, there is a good stopping place. In the next chapter, you can expect to see some Seem bashing, and Jak once again pounding Marauders into a pulp in the arena, after that, it is back over to Keira so she can get her powers and start kicking even more butt than she is now.

If you so choose, please let me know what you thought of this chapter, be it from constructive criticisms, to weapon ideas, to even outright flames, I welcome them all.

Thanks, and have a great week.


	11. Bigotry and Rage

Hello to everyone, and I apologize in advance for the lateness of this update, as things have been hectic with exams and all that crap, and there are numerous family events going on, which is why the review responses have been sporadic in their timing. IF I have forgotten anyone, please let me know so that I can respond to you, as I do appreciate the time you take to review. Also, due to exams, animedragongirl has not had enough time to beta check this in its entirety. A checked version will be put up as soon as she is done and I have made the necessary corrections, but I didn't want to make you people wait any longer for something you take the time out of your lives to read.

Also, several of you have expressed concerned over what fate will befall Daxter. Worry not, for he is indeed a Precursor, and will eventually find himself numbered among the Dragoons in time for the assault upon the Day Star. This means that he will be armed with a dual bladed staff, and some nifty telekinetic powers, so he will eventually be getting Darth Maul on the bad guys, if you need a mental image.

That said, I hereby swear upon my immortal soul that I own nothing save those characters that I have created within the depths of my own demented mind.

* * *

&

* * *

Bigotry and Rage

Walking at a fairly rapid pace, the dark elf and his best friend quickly made their way through a tunnel and into the Spargus City Monastery, drawing more than a few double takes along the way.

When they entered, the dark elf took advantage of the HUD viewing screen afforded by his armor to look around at the Monastery. It was plain for the most part, being carved from the same adobe styled rock as the rest of the city, and lacking anything resembling statues or paintings within it. Simple and pragmatic, like the people who dwelt in it.

A monk was there waiting for them, and upon seeing the strange looking suit of armor, his eyes also widened in shock, causing Daxter to roll his own eyes and mutter something under his breath. However, the monk recovered form his shock more quickly than most, and made haste to scoot over to the duo, before bowing in front of them.

"His highness and Lady Seem have requested your presence immediately, exile." He stated, a slight note of awe in his voice.

"Did they say what they wanted to see me about?" Jak inquired, cocking his head slightly and crossing his arms over his armored chest.

"No, but they said that it was of the utmost importance, and they left me to guide you to them as quickly as was possible." the monk replied, before quickly turning upon his heels and heading out down on of the side corridors.

'**_Why do I not have a good feeling about this?' _**Kage muttered, a frown forming on his fanged jaws.

'_Probably cause knowing Seem, this isn't going to end well.' _His host responded, his reptilian eyes narrowing inside of the helmet he wore.

Sure enough, that would prove to be the case as the monk led both him and Daxter into a chamber in which she was, along with Kleiver and Valthos.

Off in the back, they could see several monks rushing medical supplies, salves, bandages, and the like to where Seth was. A touch of anxiety came over him, and he couldn't help but wonder if the lanky Wastelander was going to come through. After all, many of the injuries he had received had been rather nasty looking.

"Is he going to be alright?" the dark elf inquired as he removed his helmet, shaking his head as he did so.

The three of them looked up suddenly, as they had apparently not heard his approach. Their reactions were all slightly different to his new choice of wardrobe, but all held large amounts of shock and disbelief, and Seem's mixed with a look of downright hostility towards him. Still, it wasn't everyday that some exile you plucked from the desert came back from a mission clad in the armor of a legendary savior from six hundred years ago.

"He'll be fine, though it's going to be a long time before he'll be able to leave a bed," Valthos said, his eyes still roaming over the ancient armor that the Ascended Channeler was wearing, "but we had a few questions about what happened."

"Such as?" Jak ventured, uneasiness present in his tone of voice.

"The wounds upon his chest," Seem said, her tone biting and venomous, "the burns are laced with Dark Eco."

Instantly, both he and Daxter knew what conclusion the monk had reached and what she doubtless planned to do about it. It was all the dark elf could do to suppress a growl of frustration. Here he was, having saved a man's life, and simply because of the nature of his genetic code, it was being assumed that he had attacked him in the first place. Deep within his mind, he could feel Kage's fury start to build, and truthfully, he wasn't really all that surprised. After all, the oni was driven by an honor code, and having his host suspected of treachery left and right simply because he had been born a little different from most people was really starting to get on the Dark Eco demon's nerves. Still, Jak's guardian devil tried to hold his peace, and resigned himself to growling and muttering under his breath.

"Seth was attacked by a Fallen Precursor scouting probe, one of the things that crash landed here the other day." He stated simply, his slitted azure eyes boring into all present. "That was what gave him those burns, and slashed his chest up like that."

"And where was this scouting probe when I showed up, mate?" Kleiver inquired, a frown upon his scarred visage.

"You didn't see it, because by the time you got your fat butt to where we were, Jak had already blown the damn thing up!" Daxter exclaimed in a loud and indignant voice, as he had also grown tired of watching Jak have to put up with this drek. "I mean, I know you got a scar running down one of ya eyes, Michelin Man, but how could you not see all the smoldering wreckage? For the love of the Precursors, it only left enough recyclable parts lying around to build a new dune buggy out of them!"

"I assumed that those were part of Seth's vehicle." The stocky Wastelander muttered to himself, now very much subdued.

"Yeah well, ya know what they say about assuming." The ottsel continued, crossing his small arms over his chest and glaring up at the large elf.

"Besides," Jak said, his voice cold and directed towards a certain tattooed monk, "if I had attacked Seth, he wouldn't be breathing right now, and I wouldn't be hiding it from you guys. I would have had a good reason to do so and I would have told you flat out why I did it."

Valthos looked like he was going to speak, but Seem cut the Sand King off before he had a chance.

"As if your word was worth anything around here, Dark One!" she hissed, her crimson eyes narrowed at the dark elf, who matched her glare for glare. "You are a corrupting influence just waiting for the chance to destroy us all!" she then turned to face Valthos. "It is unwise to keep him here among us, your majesty, he should be cast back out into the Wasteland and left as we found him. As long as he resides here, we are all in danger."

Jak felt the words, so hauntingly similar to the slander that Veger and the other councilors had spewed at him on the day of his first 'trial,' hit him with the force of one of Kor's strikes, and he visibly winced. He closed his eyes and stared towards the ground, his fists clenched as he tried to hold back his anger and his sorrow.

However, a certain alter ego within him was not so inclined, and something happened then that had never before. Jak felt something snap inside of his mind, and before he could do anything, found that he had been stripped of any control over his body. In an instant, he realized what was happening.

Kage had had enough.

There was a flash of darkness from around the Ascended Channeler, and the conversation halted. Kleiver instinctively reached for his weapon, while Valthos took a step back. Seem, not knowing what to make of this phenomenon that she had never before observed, simply stood where she was. A pain filled growl came from within the orb of night, and it quickly became a roar.

The monks that had been attending to Seth emerged just in time to watch Kage finish wresting control from his host and manifesting himself.

Valthos took another step back as he stared upon the oni for a second time. If the Dark Eco demon had been intimidating before, he was now doubly so that he was clad in the transformed Mar's Armor, and even he, one of the bravest souls in Spargus, felt a bit of fear start to well up inside of him as the looked upon the snarling devil.

With a feral cry, Kage leapt forward, as always, leaving that strange after image of himself behind, and grabbed Seem around the throat, before coming up and slamming her against the wall, hard. His hellfire red eyes glowed like coals and he bared his fangs as he forced the struggling monk to look at him, before he began to give her a piece of his mind.

"Listen," he growled in his distorted voice, shaking her once to stop her futile flailing, "I have had my fill of listening to you slander my host, and while he may be willing to take the higher road, and put up with your bigotry, I for one, have had it!"

Gasps reached his sensitive ears, and the air around him literally stank of fear. That was so much the better as far as the honor bound oni was concerned, as it would help him get his point across all the more effectively.

"We have served your king, aided your people, and attempted to find your on missing compatriots," he continued, his burning eyes narrowing to mere slits as he continued to vent his range, "We have done nothing to deserve the poisonous words you speak about us. It was bad enough for Count Veger to throw us out of Haven after saving him and the miserable hides of the rest of his men from Kor's wrath. My host nearly gave his life to destroy that devil, and exile was the thanks that he got." He then paused, his nostrils flaring as rage dilated them. "And on my honor, I will not allow such a fate to befall him again." He spat, before pulling Seem close, until the nose at the end of his slight muzzle was touching hers. "So keep your slanderous tongue with its hateful words behind your teeth, monk, or the next time, you will find it dangling from my talons!"

With that, he stepped back until she was at arms length from him, and then he let go. Seem crashed to the ground in an unceremonious heap, and there she lay, staring up, wide eyed, at the creature that had threatened her. Kage stared down at her as well, growling again, and his tail thrashed back and forth in clear agitation as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Abruptly, the Dark Eco demon growled, and relinquished control back over to Jak. The transformation took about two seconds, and when it finished, the Ascended Channeler stood where his alter ego had been, panting.

'**_I am sorry…' _**Kage began, before Jak cut him off with a mental reply.

'_Don't be,' _he said, a strange weariness to his voice, _'you're just trying to look out for me and Dax like you always do…and who knows, maybe if we're lucky she'll leave us alone now.'_

He turned to leave, pausing just long enough to grab the helmet to his armor and then motion for Daxter to come along. However, before the two friends had taken more than a few steps, Valthos cleared his throat. The two of them stopped, and looked back over their shoulders at the ruler of the Wastelanders.

"Just to let you know, Jak," he began, "your second trial is happening today, just as soon as the storm dies down."

"I'll be there." The dark elf said, before taking his leave.

They hadn't gone more than a few steps outside when Daxter, who had had a strange expression upon his furry visage ever since Kage had relinquished control of his host's body, immediately began to break out into a deep, gut shaking bought of laughter.

"Oh man!" he exclaimed as Jak looked down at him, "Did you see the look on her face when ole tall, dark, and dangerous grabbed her and started chewing her out?" he suddenly doubled over, clutching his stomach in a hopeless attempt to regain his composure. "Jeez, first Veger, and now she who could not keep out of her mother's makeup kit, this is going to be a day that I remember for a long time!"

Jak desperately wished that he could join in with the laughter of his companion, but instead all he felt was fatigue, and not just cause he'd been on his feet, running around and doing everything from sparring with a Precursor high commander to battling one of those scouting probes to going on search and rescue mission for about the past thirty six hours. No, the fatigue he felt was simply world weariness, a feeling as if the weight of the bigotry and prejudice being thrown at him was just sapping his energy.

Why? Why did people everywhere have to be so shortsighted? Why did they condemn him for a choice that had not been his?

For a brief, fleeting instant, he stared down at the armor, the Precursor forged equipment that his ancestor had used for most of his life, and he wondered if Mar had had to put up with this sort of stuff.

* * *

Two hours had passed, and the storm had finally died down. Now, the Spargus city combat arena was filled fit to bursting. Rumors of Kage and the fact that he had somehow acquired the Armor of Mar had apparently increased the turnout, and all of the desert dwelling elves eagerly awaited the coming fight, those who had been here previously anxious to see what new tricks the dark elf would show them, those who had not curious to see if this mysterious exile was everything gossip made him out to be.

He waited on one side of the metal proving ground, half listening as Pecker rambled on again, though he did spare a glance to one of his HUD screens, and zooming in, found Daxter making certain signs behind the monkeet's back. However, even the ottsel's antics couldn't dull the pain and the barely suppressed rage that coursed through him at the current moment. Kage was also silent, and Jak could sense a great degree of guilt coming from his guardian devil, no doubt once again blaming himself for getting them into this mess.

Once again, the dark elf found himself wishing that none of this had ever happened, that he could just be back in Haven, enjoying the few months of peace that had come from the destruction of Kor. Once more, he simply wished he could hold Keira in his arms and forget all about impending invasions of disgruntled Ancients, the attacks of Metal Heads, or anything even vaguely resembling a Death Bot.

Alas, his pleasant day dream was not reality, as Valthos' cry for the battle to begin quickly reminded him.

He looked up, and saw that his opposition was being brought in. This time, it was about fifteen Wastelanders, three of them carrying assault rifles.

Suddenly and without warning something within him snapped, and he looked out over the audience using the screens of his helmet. In the same place as last time, he found Seem, still staring down at him with an expression of contempt. He looked over the rest of the crowd, who was screaming at the top of its lungs as the blade carrying Marauders charged him.

Rage exploded within the dark elf, so much that even Kage seemed surprised.

If they wanted a monster, a creature that destroyed and slew any who came near, then that was what they were going to get.

Breaking into a sprint, Jak charged towards his adversaries, not even bothering to draw Kitetsu. He quickly closed the distance between himself and his foes, and as the first one brought his two handed scimitar down to try and chop him in half, the Ascended Channeler sidestepped. In a move that was a blur of motion, he lashed out with a closed fist, slamming it into the side of the Marauder. Muscles ripped, sinew snapped, and bones broke under the power behind the blow, and the armored elf howled in pain, crying out at the top of his lungs as his ribs shattered under the assault.

A second punch followed that first one, slamming into the man's kidney and causing it to all but explode as Jak's vampiric strength, back up by the hardened Vibrium that composed his new armor, sealed his opponent's fate. However, wishing to add some more drama and perhaps cow the rest of the attacking group, the Ascended Channeler did not stop there. As the dying elf fell began to fall, Jak leapt up, spinning around and causing the war braids on the back of his helmet to flare out in a way that made him look every bit the living engine of destruction he could be. He stuck his leg out as he completed the round house, bringing his foot against the head of the Marauder.

Like an overripe melon struck by a blow from a hammer, the elf's head practically collapsed as the blow struck home, throwing the corpse to the ground, where a ominous red and slightly clear liquid began to leak out from the helmet, quickly spreading across the ground.

Jak didn't even spare it a backwards glance, already targeting the next opponent.

This Marauder wasn't wearing a helmet that covered his entire head, and his face was exposed. Recognizing that the dark elf's sides were not quite as armored as the rest of his torso, the desert elf brought his weapon in from the side, trying to hack into Jak's abdomen. However, with the speed that had made him notorious as a one elf army, he merely swatted the blade down with his left hand, and brought his right up into the face of his opponent, palm first. The blow hit the Marauder square in the nose, and it shattered in an instant, driving the bone up into the brain of the elf, slaying him just as quickly.

Lucky number three came charging in half a second later, his war cry making his approach painfully obvious even if the Heir of Mar hadn't seen him on the rear view HUD screen or motion sensor. In the blink of an eye, Jak spun about and reached up with both of his hands. The Marauder couldn't keep the shock from manifesting itself upon his face as the downward descent of his weapon was suddenly halted as the dark elf slapped his hands together as if in prayer, trapping the scimitar neatly between his palms.

Not wishing to give his foe any time to react, the Ascended Channeler pushed himself closer, to where he was literally toe to toe with the other elf. Tapping into his superhuman strength and speed, Jak shot his knee forward, slamming it into the groin of his adversary. The Marauder's eyes bulged outward behind his helmet as he felt the rather sensitive targets of the attack become crushed by the strike. Naturally, this broke his concentration and his strength in a rather effective manner and as Jak released his grip upon the sword of his adversary and ducked to one side, the blade fell to the ground and clattered harmlessly against it.

Without a moment's hesitation, the dark elf spun about, coming up behind his adversary, who was currently in the process of going to his knees whilst he clutched his wounded area, his mouth opened in a silent scream of agony. Reaching out, the Ascended Channeler grabbed the Marauder's head, and with a sharp twist, snapped his neck.

He was immediately forced to sidestep a blow from behind as another enemy came charging in, roaring as he thrust his blade forward. A minor glance down at the HUD screens told Jak exactly where his foes neck was in relation to himself, and without even bothering to turn around, he shot his left arm out, his hand flat like a knife. With all the strength he could muster, the dark elf slammed the blow home.

Another blade clattered to the arena floor as the Marauder dropped, his hands clutching around his throat and the crushed windpipe inside of it, gasping out his life like a fish out of water.

Four down, eleven to go.

An abrupt shouting of his inner demon caused him to look over to where the ranged Marauders were, and he saw that they were training their rifles upon him. Not wishing to take any chances, Jak realized that disposing of them would be a good idea, and now that the whole populace of the desert city pretty much knew what he was and what he could do, he had no qualms about using his powers to thin the ranks of the enemy.

Which was exactly what he did, and the crowd gasped in awe as Dark Eco vapors suddenly appeared around the Ascended Channeler, before they quickly enveloped him. There was a crack, and when they cleared, the dark elf was nowhere to be found. One would have been able to see the Wastelanders seated in the arena lean forward in their seats, wondering what had happened. Their question was answered about a tenth of a second later when another crack echoed throughout the combat area, and with a similar burst of mist, Jak reappeared, now within about forty feet of the rifle carrying Marauders, who were frozen in place, stunned by what they had just observed.

That would prove to be the last mistake of their lives, as Jak stuck out his right hand, his fingers spread apart. A mental command was all that was required to call forth the ever familiar purple lightning, and the poor fools had about half a second to react as they realized that it was headed right for them. They weren't fast enough, and two died instantly, the toxic substance burning through their bodies, their corpses twitching as they fell to the ground, their guns still clamped in their hands.

For the third, his fate was even more brutal, though many would argue it merely was preparing the Marauder for what was waiting for him in the afterlife. By some strange quirk, the Dark Eco lightning that streamed from the Ascended Channeler, didn't kill him instantly, and instead merely blew the elf backwards…over the edge of the arena.

Everyone present heard his screams as he plummeted towards the lava below.

Jak eyed his HUD screens, zooming in with a thought and looking at his eight remaining adversaries, and a grim smile worked its way over his face as he saw them looking back and forth amongst one another. He didn't have to see their own masked faces to know that there were expressions of fear on them, didn't have to be able to read their thoughts to know that they realized, with mounting horror, that this foe was beyond them and that they were dead men walking.

Abruptly, and with that strange, fluidic grace that he had possessed ever since he'd begun receiving his Dark Eco treatments, he pivoted on his heel, the war braids of his helmet flowing out behind him, once more adding to the already larger than life spectacle that he was putting on.

The Marauders made themselves, ready, gripping their weapons in white knuckled grasps as they prepared themselves for what was surely to be a last desperate stand. The audience watching held their breath, anxiously awaiting the next move.

Jak moved his head slightly, popping his neck.

The armored elves in the middle of the combat area swung their weapons a few times, and several of them licked their lips behind their helmets.

The dark elf leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he tried to formulate a plan of attack.

Sweat glistened upon the Marauders, and several of them were breathing so quickly that they were about to start hyperventilating.

And then it happened.

Jak pushed off with his left foot, charging towards his adversaries with a loud battle cry.

He crossed the hundred feet that separated them in less than three seconds.

The Ascended Channeler reached hit first target, and the desert elf brought his two handed blade in from the side, once more attempting to take advantage of the fact that there were no Precursor forged armor plates protecting him there. Jak, however, threw himself forward, and rolled underneath the attack. Before his foe could even really begin to figure out what was going on, the dark elf was rising up behind him, his right foot sweeping out in a round house that was aimed towards his foe's unprotected back. Anger in his voice, Jak screamed as he smashed his foot into his opponent's back. The vertebrae shattered almost instantly under the assault, and now paralyzed, the desert elf dropped like a sac of potatoes, his eyes wide in shock.

The Heir of Mar, however, was already heading for the next foe, leaping off of the ground and spreading his arms wide. He connected solidly with his target, the end of his twenty foot leap resulting in him bearing a Marauder to the ground. The elf's eyes widened as it happened, giving him the perfect view of an armored fist cocking itself back and then speeding towards his face. He gave a quick, panic filled scream as the blow streaked in, silenced quickly by the sound of cracking bone as Jak hit the Marauder with enough force to drive the metal of the man's helmet into his head. This did considerable damage to the Ascended Channeler's knuckles, but his enhanced healing factor quickly relieved any pain that he might have felt from the attack.

Quickly leaping back up to his feet, the dark elf spun around and charged up his powers once more, unleashing a quick, three shot dark bolt attack on a marauder that had been charging at him. The small balls of Dark Eco hit home, blowing the prisoner off of his feet. As the final shot had hit him in the face, the elf was mercifully dead before he even hit the ground.

Just five left.

It was then that Jak finally drew the blade of his forefathers, and Kitetsu's runes bathed his armor in an eerie purple glow. He quickly harnessed the blade's abilities and summoned a copy of it, before slowly and ominously scraping them against each other, letting the Marauders know that they truly had no hope, and that Death was coming for them.

For about ten seconds, he did this, whirling the two weapons about, until finally, one of the Marauders couldn't take it anymore and his will snapped. Screaming like a man possessed, he stormed towards the living nightmare that he faced. With what appeared to be a sluggishness that indicated nothing but contempt, the dark elf lazily spun out of the way, swinging the shadow blade at his foe from the front, while bringing Kitetsu in from the other side. The end result was for the two dark katanas to pass within a hairsbreadth of each other as they sliced the elf in half just above his waist. He screamed again, this time in sheer agony as he fell apart upon the arena floor.

His two weapons cocked back, Jak charged the remaining four Marauders. Their bodies quivered in fear as this apparently hell-spawned foe charged them, the hissing of his weapons a melody of death. He reached the first one, and actually leaped over the swing his foe took at him, sailing over his opponent's head. As he passed, he lashed out with both weapons, feeling practically no resistance as they bit into the elf's flesh and tore through.

The Ascended Channeler righted himself and hit the ground just as the other elf's head and arms were falling off of his body.

He noticed another one racing in at him from his side HUD, and spun around to meet the elf head on. However, panic was written in the gait of his foe, and Jak merely extended Kitetsu. The Marauder, unable to stop himself in time, actually caused his own death as he impaled himself upon the Precursor forged weapon.

Ripping the weapon out of his foe, Jak turned, and quickly decided what to do next. With a cry, he swung both katanas, and lightning crackled down their lengths, turning into a pair of Dark Eco 'waves' as the swings completed themselves. They rushed towards two of the remaining three enemies, and slammed into them, eating through their armor, before tearing into flesh. Their screams were horrible to hear, but ended quickly as the Grim Reaper came to claim yet another two souls today.

The final Marauder completely lost the will to fight as he saw himself the sole remaining warrior aside from Jak, and he turned and fled as instinct overruled reasoning. The poor soul didn't realize that in an environment such as this one, there was precious little places he could run to, something that the dark elf trying to kill him quickly capitalized upon.

Jak took off after him, dispelling the shadow blade as he quickly closed the distance between the two of them. His battle cry caused the fleeing Marauder to turn, and the elf hastily raised his weapon to block the strike that came towards him. Kitetsu came in from below and sheered right through the steel weapon and kept on going, purposefully missing the Marauder by scant millimeters, while its wielder and master came ever closer. Reaching back with his left hand, Jak formed it into a knife shape, and thrust forward, aiming for the other elf's abdomen.

So great was the anger that fueled his strength, that his hand hit the desert elf's six pack, and his armored fingers tore trough flesh and muscle, as the Ascended Channeler plunged his hand up to about two inches past his wrist into the Marauder's guts.

An instant later, he ripped it out, taking with it a good deal of the elf's intestines and throwing them to the floor. Pain exploded through the Marauder as he fell to his knees, clutching at his bloodied organs.

However, even as enraged as he was at the moment, Jak was still capable of mercy, and a moment later, Kitetsu sang as it took the man's head off, ending his agony.

They were all dead now, but still his fury raged, demanding to be sated.

And so the elf turned, and faced the downed corpses of those he'd slain. He then sheathed Kitetsu, and proceeded to vent the last of his rage by cleaning house. Focusing his powers once again, Jak extended his hands, and those in the front rows of the arena swore for the rest of their lives that they saw his eyes flash purple behind the black visor, and in the next instant, a blackish purple mist sprang from his hands, shooting out towards the corpses. The mist suddenly separated, several comet like clouds breaking off from the rest of it and streaking towards the bodies of the more outlying victims of his rage.

The dark mist passed over the corpses, before settling to the ground. The crowd watched, mystified and several of them started to whisper amongst themselves, wondering what was going on. Their questions were answered moments later, when the mist dissipated, revealing that nothing was left of the desert elves who had fought Jak. Flesh, blood, armor, weapons, all had been consumed by the mist, and several Wastelanders gulped.

Jak started panting, the near two days straight of constant fighting and traveling finally taking its toll upon him, and his eyelids suddenly felt as if they were made of lead.

'**_Are you alright?' _**Kage ventured cautiously, concern also evident in the oni's voice.

'_I'll be okay, I just need to rest.' _Jak responded, a weary smile upon his face, and not for the first time, he felt strangely thankful towards Praxis for the Dark Eco treatments.

After all, sometimes it helped to have a guardian devil, and someone to talk to who could most definitely relate to where you were coming from.

And so, with heavy steps, the Ascended Channeler made his way back over to the platform that would take him from the arena.

* * *

He had not left the Arena far behind when he saw Daxter scrambling down a corridor to meet him.

"Nice going buddy!" He exclaimed, giving him a thumbs up and then breaking into applause. "You sure showed those scumbags a thing or two," He then added in a far more subdued tone, "and I think that Seem's going to be a little more weary of you after watching that little bloodbath."

"You think?" Jak inquired, his voice tired, but a half smile came over his hidden visage.

In response, Daxter simply nodded his head rather vigorously.

A moment later, Valthos came around the corner with Kleiver and a certain multicolored monk at his rear.

"Not bad, exile," the Sand King said as he crossed his arms, genuine respect in his voice, "but some of your methods were unnecessarily rash, placing you in headless danger." He then cocked his head quizzically. "Didn't your father ever tell you to be more cautious in your fights?"

"I never really knew my father." Jak responded, and Kage winced inwardly, reflecting over the few memories he'd observed that his host did have. "I never saw him much; he was a real workaholic before he got killed."

After all, to tell the exact truth would have no doubt left these Wastelanders questioning his sanity.

"What happened to him?" Valthos asked, curious.

"He died in the assault on the Metal Head Nest about four years ago." The dark elf said.

"So," the ruler of Spargus growled, "yet another elf dead at the hands of dearly departed Damas."

"What's your problem with him?" the dark elf inquired, grateful that his helmet hid the look of rage that was plastered across his face.

"Isn't it obvious?" Valthos inquired, cocking an eyebrow at him and crossing his arms over his chest. "The fool launched a haphazard attack on the Metal Head nest that got the gods only know how many people killed, and paved the way for Praxis to rise to power and remove his wife and child from the picture. The blood of thousands is on his hands, or would be, if the idiot wasn't already dead…"

He stopped there, as he caught a good look at Jak.

While his face might have been hidden, every bit of body language screamed rage at the Ruler of Spargus. The Ascended Channeler's breathing was deep and bordering on panting, and dark electricity suddenly circulated around his hands. For a fleeting instant, the notion entered his head that the elf in front of him might just use his rather formidable powers to strike him down, and a part of him actually longed for that to happen.

However, it was not to be, as Jak managed to control himself, and while Kage my have been practically foaming at the mouth over the latest bit of insulting the dead, he was able to realize that striking down the Sand King himself might not have been the wisest idea. Besides, much as he despised it, Jak did owe a debt to Valthos for saving his life, which meant that until it was repaid, he would have to deal with the anger that the desert elf felt towards the father of his host.

Now feeling more tired than he'd ever been in his life, Jak abruptly spun about, intending to head back to his quarters and sleep for a good long while. However, something made him pause.

"I'm surprised that you stick up for Damas so much." Valthos said abruptly, and Jak simply looked down at him through the rear view HUD screen. "After all, you know what its like to lose your family because of someone else's ineptitude."

"What do you mean?" the dark elf inquired, still not bothering to turn around.

"I wasn't always out here in this waste." The Sand Kind replied. "Once I too came from Haven, and I had a wife and child as well."

"What happened?" Daxter asked, his voice strangely subdued.

"We were rather outspoken in our protesting of Praxis, and he took it upon himself to silence us." Valthos said, his voice barely above a whisper, and filled with bitterness. "I managed to survive and escape, but my wife and son were not so lucky."

'**_So that is why…' _**Kage muttered, his anger fleeing as the trio finally understood exactly what happened to make Valthos what he was.

'_I think…I think that must be why he calls himself Valthos…' _Jak concurred, as he realized what the Sand King had meant when he'd said both exile and shattered one were apt descriptions of himself.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He said aloud, before sighing and heading back to his quarters, his mind churning with all that had happened.

* * *

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Okay, there's a good place to stop. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I will remind you that a better version will be up at a later date. As for now, I will return to writing the next chapter, as it is the one in which Keira gains her abilities, and from the way things are looking, its going to be almost ten thousand words long…

Please feel free to tell me what you thought of the chapter, be it in the form of an idea for a weapon or a power that you wish to see, some constructive criticism so that I might improve, or even a flame telling me how horrible this story is.

Thanks to all who read this, and I hope that you all have a great day.


	12. Birth of an Angel

(materializes, a hastily erected barrier spell around himself)

Hello to you all, and I hope that you have been having a truly wonderful week. I am more than a little nervous about uploading this chapter, as animedragongirl is off on a well deserved vacation, and I do not wish to bug her. I have attempted to proofread this chapter myself, but such attempts in the past have rarely worked out well, so I apologize in advance.

Oh yes, ultimatemakuta, I am afraid that the message that I sent you didn't go through for some bizarre reason, but I am grateful for your input, and yeah, someone being held up and threatened by Kage would likely be rather scared.

To the lawyers: I own nothing save my own stuff, so bugger off and go find a real case for you to investigate!

That said, here is chapter twelve.

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&

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Birth of an Angel

Keira sighed as she ran a hand through her aqua colored hair, closing her eyes for a moment and shaking her head. Opening her green eyes, she stared out of one of the windows of the Naughty Ottsel and looked out over the Harbor Sector, or rather, what was left of it.

Craters littered the streets, and entire buildings lay in shambles, while smoke filled the air from where countless pyres burned both elven and Metal Head dead alike. Off to her side, Tess slept fitfully in one of the booths, twitching back and forth, and occasionally muttering something in her sleep.

In the center of the bar were Torn and Jinx, both of them hunched over a holo map of the area. It had originally been a holo-vid recreational unit that Daxter had had installed in the place, but with a bit of tweaking on her part, it now served a far more practical purpose.

One week had passed since the disastrous counter attack, and the elves in this area had been cut off from command, and for all they knew, left for dead by the rest of the army. It was clearly taking its toll on everyone, as every time Keira walked outside, she could hear the murmuring of the greener soldiers, see the fear in the eyes, and the bitter resignation of the veterans, most of whom had the thousand yard stare in their eyes.

Not helping was the fact that the Death Bots and the Metal Heads still found ways to keep them on their toes. While they were not able to directly access the Harbor Sector, they had been filtering their way up from the sewers. Thankfully, they hadn't decided to launch an all out assault yet, but the aqua haired elf felt that it would simply be a matter of time before they did so.

Hampering everything was the fact that the Lockdown barriers also scrambled radio signals, making communication with Ashelin and the others back at the General Head Quarters impossible. So they were on there own, and they would have to bail themselves out of this mess with nothing more than what they had right here. Still, Keira and the others had been in tighter spots before, and she had little doubt that they manage to find a way to win the day.

On the other hand, if her husband had been here, they likely would've never been in this mess in the first place. However, she reminded herself that she had to be strong, that she would have to carry on the fight until he returned.

With that thought, she turned back to watching the two Revenants.

"You really think this'll work, Leader Man?" Jinx asked, shaking the tech head out of her musings.

"It's worth a shot," Torn replied with a shrug, "and besides, it beats waiting around for those tin cans to come and finish us off."

"You gotta point there." The pyromaniac conceded, nodding his head slowly.

Keira let her eyes drift over the two brothers in arms, and she couldn't help but feel a swell of pity for them. Both were pale, their skin almost white, which was a result of having spent so much of the past several months encased within the Katarn Mark II battle armor that they wore into battle. There was also a noticeable slump to their shoulders, and the dark circles under their eyes indicated just how fatigued their bodies were. Torn also had a bit of a beard starting to grow on his face, the inability to get his hands on a razor becoming obvious.

All in all, both soldiers looked as though they could have used about a month of R and R, and Keira silently suspected that she didn't look much better.

"So what's up?" she asked abruptly, causing the two Revenants to look over their shoulders at her.

"We've decided that we're going to try and slip a few guys down into the Underport area to go ahead and seal off most of the tunnels down there." Torn said, his usual growl in his voice.

"That way," Jinx continued, "if our friendly neighbors decide to drop by for a chat, we don't have nearly as many places that we have to cover."

Keira rubbed her chin thoughtfully, musing over the idea. It was tactically sound, and made a lot of sense. Still, she couldn't help but be a little anxious, as given the knowledge that the Death Bots seem to have of their tactics and stratagems, the lull in the fighting could very well be a ruse to lure them down into an underground ambush. Regardless, she really wished she'd had more time to work on her new ideas before Veger had come up with his grossly botched attack plan. The new armor that she'd have been trying to design for the Revenants would have gone a long way into helping in this instance.

"Sounds like a plan." She finally said, nodding her head slightly. "So when do we move out?"

You've got two hours to get it all together while we round up some volunteers." Torn replied.

The mechanic/weapon specialist nodded silently, before making her way over to Tess, and attempting to rouse her friend from dreamland.

* * *

In what seemed to almost be an agonizing loud manner, the Underport elevators doors opened, revealing a pitch black abyss of ancient tunnels and corridors. It would appear as though during the time that they had been running around down here, the Death Bots had been doing everything in their power to ensure that the elves would have their work cut out for them if they ever decided to try and make a break for it.

However, the soldiers in the group weren't stupid, and the four Revenants activated their night vision, while the dozen or so veteran Freedom Guard members that were with them pulled their own goggles down over their faces and proceeded to activate them.

With a series of rapid fire gestures, Torn began to issue the commands for them to spread out and keep their eyes open. Keira and Tess were only to happy to oblige, knowing that as bunched up as they'd had to be on that elevator, a well place grenade or RPG would have meant the end for all of them. Truthfully, she did wonder why there weren't a couple of those new Death Bots they'd seen, which the rank and file elves had aptly named 'Hunter Killers,' stationed down here in the event that some of them tried this sort of tactic.

Given the false retreat tactic that had resulted in their current predicament, the strange lack of a robotic or Metal Head welcoming party very much unnerved the young elf. She tightened her grip upon her morph gun, her eyes constantly roaming down the corridor, searching for any sign of a foe.

Their 'fearless leader' had headed up to a crossroad style junction in the place, and Keira knew then that this mission was truly underway. Moving as quietly as she could, she came up behind Revenant Forty Two, waiting for his signal to begin the next phase of the operation.

It came in earnest, and the group headed down the right side of the tunnel, on constant alert for even the slightest twitch of something that shouldn't be down here.

* * *

"Okay, the party favors are in place." Jinx muttered over the comm. channel as he finished rigging up a few Havocs. "Now let's back up and get this little rave started."

The fifteen other troopers made haste to do so, knowing all too well the explosive power that the tiny M9-DPs had inside of them.

When they were a sufficient distance away, the pyromaniac pulled out the remote detonator that he always had on his person, and though his helmet covered his face, everyone present knew there was a look of almost fiendish glee upon it as he depressed the two thumb buttons and then pulled the trigger.

The darkness became daylight as the Havocs went off, and the resulting shockwave nearly blew them all off of their feet. After shielding her eyes for a few seconds, Keira looked back up, and with a sigh of relief, noticed that the explosives had worked, and that this tunnel was now effectively sealed off.

However, no cheer came from her or any of the others, no cry of victory. After all, this was simply one of almost six that had to be closed down, and every second they were down here increased the danger of an enemy patrol coming across them, or something of that nature. Thus, they were quick to head back the way that they came, double timing it to where the next target was.

Keira, while still remaining ever alert for an ambush, allowed her mind to drift slightly, and think about what they'd seen down here. While it was true that they hadn't directly engaged any hostile forces, there were signs of battle that they had come across. They were few and far between, but every now and then, they had come across the remains of what appeared to have at one time been a group of Roller bots, and twice she'd been eternally grateful that she could seal this suit that she was wearing, as they'd literally stumbled across the remains of a Metal Head patrol.

Both of them had been standard, run of the mill groups, consisting predominantly of Grunts and Drones, with a pair of Centurions and a Crab Head overseeing them, their corpses now in various states of decay. What had puzzled her the most, though, was what had killed them. The decomposing bodies had been riddled with a kind of energy based weapon the likes of which she had never seen before, the burn marks being far smaller in diameter than the weapons that she and the others were carrying. On the other hand, the wounds were far deeper as well, and it was something that had definitely piqued her curiosity.

Still, it was a riddle that she would have to save for another day, as there was a mission that needed completing right now.

Renewing her vow of determination, Keira Hagai Mar trekked onward, ever deeper into the maze of the Underport.

* * *

Far away from where the small patrol was bravely trying to ensure their eventual triumph, an ancient elf sat in a lotus style, her unseeing eyes staring at the wall on the far side of her.

She really missed Pecker, as much as that familiar might have been able to try even her patience, it was very difficult trying to communicate without him. Still, he was assisting the Heir of Mar, so that made up for his absence.

Besides, even if she had been able to communicate, how would she have broken the news of what she had seen in her latest vision?

Within it, she had seen darkness and heard screams of death, mixed with curses and oaths of soldiers, both male and female alike, with a few explosions and what had sounded like the death cries of the Hora-quan thrown in as well. However, suddenly, from the depths of this abyss, a flash of light had come from out of nowhere, and the seer had not been able to hold back a gasp when she finally beheld the source.

The creature was something she could have only described as an angel, glowing a white and a pale blue combination, its wings spread wide and its eyes narrowed into what she could only call a glare. With a battle cry, the being had lunged for something, and then all went black once again.

She was confused, and that was a rare thing for her to be. Frankly, she didn't much like the feeling, and so she simply scratched her chin, trying to contemplate upon what the vision might have meant, and to whom it might have pertained.

* * *

Keira ducked her head, narrowly avoiding an Eco bolt that would have nailed her right in her visor. That one bolt was soon joined by others, and a veritable stream of them were soon flying over her head, forcing her down behind the cover of the alcove she was pressed up against.

The ambush had happened at the last tunnel, just as Jinx was attempting to prime his last set of explosives. Typical, but at first they hadn't been to worried, as it had only been a few Metal Heads and some Roller bots. However, things had rapidly taken a turn for the not so good when the Hunter Killers had showed up. There were four of them all together, two lights and two heavies, and both of them had promptly unleashed the disgustingly large amount of firepower they had at the group. Four of the Freedom Guard had died instantly, their bodies all but shredded before the onslaught of the mechanized killing machines. Torn had just narrowly escaped getting filleted at the hands of one of them as well, throwing himself prone just as one of the lighter machines had gone by and swiped at him with its energy claws. It had been going to try for a second swing but fortunately Keira had been able to fire a couple of RPGs at it that had driven it back.

She'd had had a few close calls as well, and it showed in the blackened areas of her armor.

Compounding the situation was the fact that these new Hunter Killers could apparently see infrared as well, as when Tess had tried to sneak up with her active camouflage, she'd nearly been turned into Swiss chess for her trouble.

Hunkering even closer to the stone wall as a volley of Eco bolts tore into her cover, Keira removed the clip from her morph gun, before pressing a switch and flipping the gun back over to its RPG launcher mode. She then reached down and loaded up a couple of the remaining plasmite grenades, before popping up, and quickly firing them off at one of the machina warriors.

The rocket propelled grenades impacted upon one of the heavies a second later, filling their air with the sound of the explosion and a flash that nearly overloaded her night vision visor. However, any feelings of elation that she might have had about the successful hits faded a moment later when the fireball cleared and revealed that the mechanical nightmare was still on its feet and if the fact that it began throwing Eco bolts at her position was any indication, still more than capable of fighting.

How she hated that her arc caster had been left behind at the Ottsel, as its power cells had been depleted in previous incursions into the Harbor Sector by the Death Bots, and recharging the cells was taking longer than anticipated, as she hadn't brought the specialized charging mechanism along with her on the day of the assault.

A death cry echoed over the comm. a moment later as one of the infantry regulars stayed up in a standing position for a fraction of a second too long, and found himself the target of a horrifically accurate counter attack by one of the lightweight Death Bots, a burst of machinegun fire nailing him dead on, and ripping him in half in their fury.

"Jinx!" Torn shouted, lobbing a sonic grenade at one of the Hunter Killers, a mixture of feelings, predominately frustration, going through him as the explosive detonated and took off one of the heavies' left arms, only have the machine still continue to battle, seemingly oblivious to its missing limb. "How much longer do you need, cause we're going to get butchered here in a minute or two!"

"Cut me some slack, bro," Revenant Sixty Seven growled back, muttering a quiet curse, "I'm working as fast as I can here without having one of those things wise up about me and take the opportunity to splatter my guts all over the walls!"

"Well work faster!" the squad leader shot back, firing a few more times at the Hunter Killers, who were more than happy to return the favor.

Keira looked over to see how Tess was doing, and got the shock of her young life. Her blond haired friend primed a sonic grenade, and hurled the explosive at one of the crimson robots. However, it had hardly been in the air for more than a second, than one of the lightweights snapped its primary weapon up, and fired a burst at the grenade. They struck home, and the antipersonnel device exploded harmlessly in midair.

The mechanic/weapon specialist had never seen an AI run machine that could learn so fast, and she vowed then and now that she would find a way to grab the head of one of these things and take it back for examination. She also decided that she would very much have liked to meet the person responsible for programming these things and shake said person's hand…right before putting an Eco bolt through their head.

"I'm done!" Jinx suddenly cried, and a flurry of sub machinegun bolts heralded his return to the fight.

His shots hit home, pinged off of the cranial armor of the heavy that was missing its left arm, even as the bot up and decided that it was time to bring its larger weapons into play. The massive plasma gun on its right arm came up, and a well placed round completely obliterated the cover that Tess had been hiding behind.

Keira, immediately realizing the danger that her friend was now in, jumped up and fired a couple more plasmite RPGs at the offending Hunter Killer. As luck would have it, the anti armor rounds went wide of the intended target as the large battle droid attempted to backpedal out of the way. However, it didn't move fast enough to get completely clear, and they impacted upon its arm mounted cannon.

The aqua haired elf realized a moment later that she had accidentally uncovered a potential Achilles Heel in these mechanical soldiers, for the heavier variety at least, as the explosion set off the charges in the gun, effectively slagging the Death Bot.

Her analytical mind thinking quickly, she decided to try to confirm her hypothesis, and fired at the other large Hunter Killer. As before, the round set off the ammo of the bot's plasma cannon, utterly consuming it in the subsequent blast.

Tess chose that moment to dive over to where she was hiding out, and muttered a quiet thanks to her friend, before returning her attention to trying to bring down the two

One of the regulars had apparently been watching her, and decided to try out the tactic for himself. He carefully peaked up from behind his ever diminishing cover, before ducking back down, priming a plasmite grenade, and chucking it over the stone block he was hiding behind. The machina warrior was currently busy trying to blow the head off of one of the soldier's comrades, and didn't notice the weapon being thrown at it. The fiery blue device hit true, sticking to the arm of one of remaining bots as it was bringing its shoulder mounted pulse cannon into play. It detonated a second later. However, to the dismay of all present, it did not cause the power pack stored within its machinegun to go off as well.

However, it hardly mattered in the long run, as the elves, deciding that they had had quite enough of being pinned down like this, never mind the possibility of enemy forces sneaking up behind them, as they were too close to set of the Havocs without barbequing themselves in the process, and decided for an all or nothing tactic. Torn relayed the orders over the comm. channel, and a second later, every single elf promptly stood up, and let the two battle droids have it with everything in their possession.

Grenades were the first thing thrown, and while the Hunter Killers were attempting to shoot them out of the air. A veritable storm of Eco bolts were unleashed upon them, so thick that one might have actually been able to walk upon it, had such a thing been possible.

The crimson armor of the two commander Death Bots held up to the assault at first, by slowly, over the course of a few seconds, Keira and the others could see bits and pieces of it start to fly off as the punishing barrage began to prove too much even for these mechanized killing machines.

However, they weren't going down without a fight.

One of them leveled its primary blaster, and fired. A six shot burst caught a Freedom Guard and blew a soccer ball sized hole in his chest, killing him instantly. Its companion also opened fire, and Torn caught the brunt of the blast across his chest. He growled in pain, but thankfully, his ferrosteel armor held up under the assault, though he had little doubt that it wouldn't be able to take much more abuse.

Tess, thinking quickly, decided to make use of the one round that she had left for her own RPG launcher, and quickly changed her morph gun to the appropriate mode. Popping up from behind her cover, she quickly took aim and fired. The hours she had spent a the gun course honing her skills paid off, and the plasmite grenade hit one of the Hunter Killers right in the left knee joint, blowing it clean off. Unfortunately, the bot failed to collapse as she'd hoped, and merely activated its jet boosters to remain in the air. However, the blond haired elf realized what this meant.

"Aim for the joints!" she shouted over the comm. channels, dropping down and switching back to her assault rifle.

The message apparently got through, and her comrades in arms were quick to take the advice. Moments later, the combined fire began to truly devastate the two bots, as now, unable to take advantage of their speed and flight capabilities in the small tunnels, their unarmored joints would quickly prove to be their undoing.

With a defiant cry, Jinx opened fire with his two submachine guns, the flurry of blue energy that came from the barrels slicing into the neck of one of them, decapitating it after a few seconds worth of the abuse.

Its comrade followed it to the scrap heap a few moments later, as the remaining elves let loose everything they could muster, and it literally fell apart at the seams as hundreds of Eco bolts ripped into it.

For a few seconds, everyone simply panted, desperately trying to catch their breath and let their brains process the fact that they had actually managed to survive the battle.

"That was way too close for my liking." Jinx said, finding his voice and reloading his weapons.

"I second that motion." Keira responded wearily, raising her hand in a half hearted gesture of agreement.

"Can we just get out of here before those things decide they want a round two?" Tess inquired, a genuine and very much understandable amount of fear present in her voice.

"Form up and move to a safe distance." Torn responded, silently agreeing with the blond haired elf that he did not wish to tango with those Hunter Killers again any time soon. "Jinx, everything good to go?"

"Houston, we are green." The demolitions expert responded, trying to use mirth to hide his true feelings as he headed up to the nearest junction, and peeked about to make certain that nothing, machine or otherwise, was waiting in ambush.

The elves quickly abandoned their defensive location, pausing just long enough to grab the weapons of the dead. Torn hated having to leave the bodies of the fallen behind, but it would be foolhardy to try and risk the lives of the soldiers who were still living for the sake of corpses. Besides, cold hearted as it was, in the case of a few, there wasn't enough of a corpse left to even be able to bring back…

He shook those thoughts from his head. There would be a time for mourning and vengeance later, right now he needed to concentrate on getting everyone who was still breathing out of this hell hole in one piece.

Everyone but Keira was outside of the blast range, the aqua haired elf having stopped for a moment to grab a few grenades from a soldier who had been slain, and close his eyes out of respect.

It was then that Murphy's Law reared its ugly head once again.

She heard it, the rhythmic stomping that could have only come from one thing, and she whirled around leveling her gun as a light weight Hunter Killer rushed around the corner, followed closely by a heavy. She fired once, alerting the others to the danger, and then threw herself to the side. The light weight returned fire, a shot from its shoulder mounted pulse cannon nearly taking her head off as she rolled behind another alcove. However, the self aiming weapon overcompensated for the change in her position, and fired at an angle a few degrees too far to the right.

It hit one of the Havocs that Jinx had set up.

Keira felt the air around her grow thick, and for a moment she felt like she was encased in mud. Her sharp mind quickly figured out what was about to happen, and she hunkered down, praying that the stone she was hiding behind would be strong enough to take the blast and the shockwave, and hoping against hope that she was far enough away from where the M9-DPs were that she would get fried either.

There was an ungodly loud roar, and she felt the shockwave pass over her, rattling her bones and echoing through her skull. Then came a blast of heat, so great that she felt it even through her sealed armor, and the air inside of her helmet was suddenly too hot to breathe, leaving her gasping, the instinctual part of her brain wanting to rip the helmet from her head, the more rational half screaming of the insanity of such an action.

However, both were silenced a moment later when something happened that none of the parties present could have foreseen. Keira felt a rumbling, and looked up instinctively to find that the ceiling was attempting to drop down and say hello to her. Her emerald eyes widened in horror as she scrambled to try and get up and get out of the way. Then the unthinkable happened. There was another rumbling, almost indistinguishable from the collapsing roof of the corridor, but as close as Keira was, she felt it distinctively, and looked down as she felt it coursing through her boots.

The floor began to split and crack, giving way as it rapidly became apparent that Jinx's little party favor had knocked out some type of very important structural device.

The aqua haired elf suddenly heard a loud crack, and the next thing she knew, she had a sudden, ominous feeling of weightlessness as she watched the others, who were scrambling towards her and screaming her name, disappear from sight.

Unable to help herself, she screamed as she felt that sensation normally associated with the first drop of a roller coaster come over her.

She was vaguely aware that the two Hunter Killers were falling with her, apparently caught so off guard by the explosion that not even their computer controlled reflexes proved fast enough to escape. Still, she was far more concerned over herself at the current point in time, and rightfully so, as unless her built in night vision goggles were malfunctioning, she was headed for a very nasty landing via what appeared to be some kind of stone buttresses sticking out of the sides of this chamber she was falling into.

She had just enough time to gulp, before she hit them, hard. The wind was blasted from her lungs, and she felt a white hot explosion tear through her. Keira knew instantly that she'd just broken every rib in the right side of her body, and judging by the fact that she had coughed up blood her helmet, probably punctured a lung too. Adding to the complications was the fact that about half of her visor was reduced to a spider web of cracks that threatened to shatter at any moment. Distracted by the pain, she hardly even noticed that she was rolling off of the side of the buttresses until she was once again in freefall.

Looking down through what part of her visor wasn't covered in her blood or cracked, she saw what appeared to be a pool or something of some liquid type substance, what exactly she couldn't tell in her pain addled state.

A second or two passed, and the silence was broken by a splash of her hitting the substance. The pain from the resulting belly flop proved too much, and she blacked out, her last thoughts lingering upon her soul mate as she heard her visor shatter and the liquid gush in through her now open helmet.

A moment or two later, the two Hunter Killers landed with varying degrees of grace, the lightweight activating its jet boosters to slow itself down, while its heavier comrade landed hard on both of its feet, causing severe damage to its entire lower body region.

In an instant, both of their weapons were aimed at where Keira had fallen in, both of them waiting for the elf to surface, so that they might finish the job. The lightweight even went so far as to walk right up next to what was in fact, a small, artificial river of Light Eco, that went around some bizarre sort of central compound in an oval shape, its current propelled along by some unseen means.

About five standard seconds later, it heard a shout from above, and both it and its companion looked up and zoomed their photoceptors in on the source of the audio disturbance.

It was an armored elf, female by the voice, calling out a name, probably the one that had just fallen. Those thoughts passed through their brains in a nanosecond, and then they promptly raised their weapons and opened fire, lighting up the darkness with multicolored energy bursts. The elf quickly disappeared as another one yanked her back and looked over the edge, apparently not caring a whit for the deadly Eco bolts sailing up at him. He scanned around for a few seconds, until a bolt smashed into the front of his helmet, knocking him backwards out of sight. Nonetheless, they kept firing, throwing in a few missiles for good effect in case the organics decided they wanted to try that little maneuver again. They stopped about ten seconds later, as the area remained devoid of an enemy presence.

None of the soldiers reappeared, and after about two minutes, the machines could hear nothing more coming from up above, and so they returned their attention to the elf that had fallen down.

Instructing for its damaged companion to stay put, the lighter Hunter Killer proceeded to pace around the strange river, part of its mechanized brain recording what it was seeing, the other trying to figure out the logic behind such a creation.

Those thoughts were quickly cut short after that, though, when it beheld the body of the fallen elf. The current had pushed it up against what appeared to be a staircase leading down into the Light Eco, and it immediately trained its blaster upon the elf. However, when the body remained still, the machine assumed the organic life form had expired, and turned its attention towards attempting to find its way out.

Some minutes later, finding no such means of escaping this pit short of jetting back out, it put in a call for another one of its own type to come to its location, as both would be needed to extract the damaged heavy.

* * *

"Keira!" Tess screamed, leaping forward to try save her friend.

Time seemed to slow as the floor gave way beneath the aqua haired elf, and she watched the other elf disappear into the abyss that the Havoc had created. She was stopped short by Torn, who had to forcefully restrain her, lest she suffer the same fate as the other girl.

For what seemed like ages, the roof of the corridor fell, and when it finally cleared, she tore her way free of the grasp of the Revenant leader, charging towards the gap, screaming her friend's name at the top of her lungs. Reaching the edge of the chasm, she slid to her knees, and looked over the edge…

…Only to find that the two Hunter Killers were currently pointing their blasters up at her and letting fly with their weapons. Uncaring, she continued to search frantically for any sign of the mechanic/weapon specialist amongst the debris.

She was able to look for more than a few seconds, before Torn ripped her back, risking his own life to try and find Keira. For several seconds he stared about, heedless of the blaster fire that was zooming towards him. However, his search was brought to a halt a moment later when he was forcefully blown back onto his posterior, a nice bit of carbon scoring just above his visor.

Tess heard Jinx swear, and rush forward to where his brother lay, no doubt on the verge of panic at the notion of losing the last member of his original squad. However, much to the relief of all, the grizzled commander got back to his feet a moment later.

"Everyone, fall back!" he commanded, as a missile impacted above their heads, showering them with debris.

"What about…" Tess exclaimed, not daring to believe what she was hearing.

"Keira's gone!" he growled back at her, before turning to Revenant Sixty Seven. "Pull everyone back now before anyone else gets killed! For all we know, this whole damn tunnel could be about to come down on our heads!"

Jinx hated to carry the order out, but he did so without hesitation, knowing there was nothing that they could do. Besides, from what he had seen of the pit that had swallowed Keira up, even though their grappling hooks were more than capable of reaching the bottom of it, they would have the minor complication of having a pair of Hunter Killers using them for target practice the whole freaking way down. Most assuredly not helping was the fact that defeating the previous group of command and control Death Bots had used up nearly all of their ordinance.

Thus, it was with great sorrow, that the elves retreated, leaving several of their own behind, and one, who was like a sister to them all.

* * *

She was vaguely aware of a return of her senses, which confused her, as she could have sworn that she should have been dead. Then again, even if she was alive, she should also have been slowly suffocating as she tried to stay alive with just one lung, not to mention there was the little matter of the six or so broken ribs that she should have been able to feel as they send shards of pure agony tearing through her.

Maybe she was dead after all.

But if that was the case, then what was the strange liquid that she felt brushing against her skin?

Slowly, fearful of what she might discover, Keira Hagai Mar opened her eyes.

The first thing that she became aware of was the hopelessly battered state of her helmet. The HUD was gone, half of the visor was missing as well, which probably meant that all of the electronic systems of the suit were out of commission as well.

She suddenly paused in her inspection, as it finally dawned upon her what she was sitting in. The whitish blue luminescence of the Light Eco bathed the whole area around her in a strange glow, and looking down at the rest of her suit, the aqua haired elf finally realized what had happened to her. Apparently, the impact against the stone buttresses had cracked the ferrosteel plates of her armor, which had already been pushed to the limit in the firefight, and also torn open the underweave of the suit, which when combined with her visor, left her exposed to the healing substance.

However, now that she understood what had happened, she also became aware of something else. Healed though she might have been, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was just something different about her now. Still, she'd figure it out once she'd managed to find a way out of this hole. After all, while she wasn't certain how long she'd been out, she was fairly certain that it was long enough for the others to have bugged out, lest more reinforcements show up to pay them a visit.

As she removed her ruined helmet and stood up, something else caught her attention. The first, was that she could see remarkably well despite the fact that she had no light enhancing visor to help her out, and could make out shapes and whatnot even at the far reaches of the chamber. The second, mostly due to the first, was of the two Death Bots that had been responsible for dumping her down here.

Unfortunately for Keira, the sound that she made of getting up out of the Light Eco that she'd been in was apparently loud enough to grab their attention, and both looked over to her for a split second, and had it been possible, surprise would have been plastered all over their robotic heads. As it was, they simply leveled their weapons, and fired at her.

Cursing, the girl threw herself to one side, taking shelter behind the main structure of the chamber, whatever it was supposed to be, and tried to think of her options. Her morph gun was nowhere to be found, and her grappling hook looked to be in need of serious repair. This left her with her vibro blade to deal with the fearsome constructs that were about to try and turn her into a hole filled corpse, not exactly what she would have wanted for such a confrontation.

A high pitched whine that she had come to associate with one of those blasted things entering an overdrive boost reached her ears, and she felt a moment of fear overcome her as a loud stamping noise indicated that the mechanized killing machine was only feet away from her, just around the corner.

It spun around the edge with surprising agility for a machine, and leveled its machinegun at her, fully intending to send her to the next life.

But something happened then, something unexpected and miraculous.

Within her mind, Keira reached the decision that she was most certainly _not _going to die like this. With an animalistic growl all too like those she had used when fighting to survive on the streets of Haven City, she balled up a fist, and extended the vibro blade, before lunging at her would be slayer.

The machinegun fired as she did so, but a sudden flash of light prevented the machine from seeing the results of its work. The flash was followed by a scream, and the next thing it knew, there were alarms blaring inside its circuits about a rather nasty bit of torso chassis damage that it had taken.

The next few seconds were spent trying to analyze just what in the name of its makers was in front of it.

* * *

Breathing deeply within the room that she had been given, Onin suddenly felt an intrusion into the calm serenity of her meditation. It was a flash of power that she had felt, had 'seen' in a way, and it had been close.

A look of bemusement upon her weathered face, she focused inward, trying to tap into her powers and locate the source of this anomaly.

It did not take long for her to home in on the source of the power surge, and when she beheld what it was, she gasped in a most un 'wise old lady' like way.

The same angel that had haunted her dreams before floated in front of her now, its light revealing a foe that it was attempting to cut down.

The image faded after a second, but one thing remained etched into her mind: the face of the being.

It was Samos' adoptive daughter.

She was certainly going to have to have a talk with the Green Eco Sage about this, and soon.

* * *

The flash had momentarily stolen away her ability to see, but Keira knew to duck, and heard the bolts from the gun whiz over her head. Not bothering to think about how close the shots had come, and remembering where her foe was, and lashed out with her weapon, and felt the satisfying shriek of metal being parted before the sound blade of her melee weapon. However, she was well aware of just how much abuse these things could take, and knew that she would have to watch out for the counter attack. So she reflexively leaped back, intended to get out of the way of the retaliatory strike.

It was only when she became distinctly aware that she was not heading back towards the ground that she became puzzled, and she also noticed that the Hunter Killer was still just standing there, staring up at her, as if unsure how to proceed.

It was only then that she looked at herself, and her eyes bulged.

Her armor and she herself were now a strange, almost translucent bluish white, and she quickly noticed the reason that she had yet to fall. Fluttering slightly in a manner that couldn't quite be called flapping, were eight silvery, tendril like wings, each one appearing to be about six feet in length.

However, her self examination was cut short as the Death Bot down below her finally seemed to reach a definite stratagem about what to do with her, and quickly opened fire with its shoulder mounted pulse cannon. With agility that surprised even the girl herself, she twisted about in mid air, dodging the stream of Eco Bolts with time to spare. As she did so, she also noticed that the heavier Hunter Killer was slowly stamping its way over to where she was, in a manner that almost seemed to indicate that it was limping on both legs. Thus, she decided that she needed to finish this battle with the first bot quickly.

Angling herself downward, she proceeded to do just that, charging towards the machina warrior with a battle cry. The construct soldier leveled its machinegun, taking aim at her. However, some instinctive part of Keira's mind seemed to know just how to use this form, and it was something that she would find rather creepy in hindsight, but for the moment she didn't have time to spare the thought, as she watched in amazement as one of her wings seemed to grow in length, lashing outward and wrapping itself around the barrel of the weapon, while a second one that extended almost at the same time wound itself around the arm of the Hunter Killer itself. The two tendril like wings then flicked themselves to one side, throwing off the aim of the machine, and ensuring that it was caught off guard as she lashed out again with the vibro blade.

She twisted about as her feet hit the ground, releasing the arm of the mechanized warrior while the four wings on her right side reached out and ensnared one of its legs. As she finished her twirl, the Hunter Killer found itself going along for the ride. It slammed into the side of the strange monument, its systems momentarily disoriented by the impact, which was something that Keira intended to fully capitalize upon. She jumped forward, her blade poised to strike and jammed it into the back of the thing's neck, before twisting and tearing it to one side, effectively decapitating the Death Bot.

She then turned her attention to the larger of the two constructs, just in time to realize that it was leveling the rapid-fire weapon that it had upon its right shoulder at her. Bolts streaked towards her, and not exactly having the ideal footing to be jumping at the moment, the young elf raised her arms in a reflexive move to ward the attack. Much to her surprise, it worked.

A shield extended outward from her palms, covering her mere moments before the shots would have connected. As it was, the machine paused for a moment as if in thought, no doubt trying to figure out how in the world it would be able to penetrate the barrier that was suddenly between itself and the target.

However, it quickly decided that this would be a simple case of shoot said barrier until it can't take it anymore, and promptly resumed firing at her.

Shielded though she might have been, Keira still felt the impacts of the blasts, and she knew on some unknown level, that her shield wouldn't last much longer under this kind of barrage.

It was then that fate chose a strange manner of intervention.

Another sound filled the air, the sound of a jet booster, and looking up slightly, she saw another lightweight descending down towards the battle from the hole that the Havoc had made. However, just as the young elf began to despair, something strange occurred.

The Hunter Killer leveled its pulse cannon, and opened fire. However, what was so strange was the fact that it was targeting the other Death Bot. Caught off guard, the machine hesitated, again as if unsure of how to proceed, and as a result several rounds slammed home upon it, ravaging its systems.

However, the heavyweights were designed for the purpose of absorbing enormous amounts of abuse before they went down, and as such, it would take far more than a few hits from a pulse cannon to destroy it. Upon deciding that this malfunctioning unit was fit to be terminated, the larger of the two Death Bots raised its plasma cannon and opened fire several times. Weaving back and forth through the air, the maverick unit managed to avoid most of the shots, but one of them still connected with it, neatly removing its sword arm.

Still behind the relative safety of the shield that she had erected, Keira couldn't help but wonder what in the name of the Precursors was going on. Was the new Hunter Killer malfunctioning? Had something been able to reprogram it?

Her thoughts drifted back to the battle at hand as the lighter unit landed, and promptly began strafing around the larger one, firing its machinegun all the while. Its superior mobility, combined with the damaged legs of its adversary, helping it to stay ahead of the aim of the other.

Still circling, the smaller of the two unleashed a volley of missiles upon the larger one, causing a massive explosion when they hit that enveloped the larger machine in the fireball. However, while its armor might have been missing in several areas, it emerged from the explosion still combat operation, and decided to spin around the opposite way that it had before. Caught off guard by this sudden change in tactics, the lighter one took a plasma cannon round to the chest. What Keira didn't realize was that the attack had severed the primary power couplings from the lower motivators, effectively paralyzing the machine from the waist down. Furthermore, the power generator itself had been damaged, and it was simply a matter of time before it went offline.

Believing that it had dealt with that threat, the heavy turned its attention back to Keira, and leveled its plasma cannon at her. The young elf shifted, preparing herself for another voyage into the air, as she didn't trust for her shield to hold up against such an assault.

However, the attack was never forthcoming.

There was a loud whoosing sound, like something that was commonly associated with a jet engine's backwash, followed swiftly by a 'thunk.' Just as quickly, another fireball engulfed the heavy, this one of a far greater magnitude than the previous one. The explosion mushroomed upwards, and bits and pieces of the Hunter Killer rained down, clanking off of the stone.

When the blast cloud faded, Keira saw two things. The first was the charbroiled remains of the heavy glowing from the intense heat of the explosion, the second was of the maverick unit, propped up on its remaining arm, its large grenade launcher extended and pointed at the remains of its enemy. Then, with the air of a tired but triumphant warrior, the machine slumped to the ground, and the light in its photoceptors went out.

The young elf hardly knew what to think of what had just occurred, and scarcely realized that her angelic form was fading, the wings receding back into her as she returned to normal.

She would spend some time pondering the meaning of all this, before she finally turned her attention to the area around her.

* * *

He moved silently a blur in the darkness, his night vision active and he himself on constant look out for the slightest hint of something being amiss.

Alone now, and with no one else to be put at risk, Commander Daniel R. Torn moved through the shadows of the Underport, his Katarn's light bending camouflage active and keeping him hidden from all but the keenest eyes or any photoceptors not blessed with the ability to see in the infrared spectrum.

Guilt consumed the hardened soldier about having to leave with Keira's fate uncertain, without knowing for sure if she was dead. It reminded him all too well of what had happened during Praxis' coup, when he'd been forced to take a then three and a half year old Jak and abandon his squad mates to Death.

Gods above, how he missed them, missed Ackerson's down to business cool, or hearing Michael's Russian accent as he rattled on with Jinx over who had managed to wax the most Metal Heads. He missed the others as well, and vowed that he'd never leave another person behind again. It was a vow that he intended to keep, now that he was down here alone, and didn't have to worry about another person getting killed on his account.

He was almost to the ambush point when he'd realized that something wasn't quite right, when that tingling of the spine that veterans got began to creep up on him again. He stiffened slowly, tightening his grip upon his rifle and cocking his head in an attempt to figure out what the problem was. Then he heard it, a slight scuffle of something scraping against stone. It had come from behind him and he prepared himself to spin about and turn the tables on his would be attacker. However, as he did so, he got the surprise of his life.

"Seems you had the same idea as me, eh?" Echoed a voice inside of his helmet, a voice that he was very familiar with.

"Jinx," Torn growled, "what the hell are you doing down here?"

"Same thing you're doing, Leader-Man." The pyromaniac shot back, but there was a seriousness beneath his mirth that one didn't hear very often. "I'm looking for our lost sister."

Torn frowned, pursing his lips, and he was about to order his squad mate to head topside, when the demolitions expert cut him off.

"Don't give me that look, Torn." He said, knowing the look upon his leader's visage despite being unable to see it. "There isn't a thing in the world you can do to make back out now."

The Revenant leader knew that tone of voice from his brother in arms, and realized that further arguing would indeed be pointless. Thus, side by side, the two of them began to make their way towards the area where things had gone so horribly wrong.

* * *

They reached the hole, and through the clever use of their wrist mounted grappling hooks, were able to descend down into the chamber that Jinx had unwittingly opened.

The sight that met their eyes was a strange one to say the least. The remains of three Hunter Killers, all of them missing limbs, and what appeared to almost be some sort of temple or shrine in the center, surrounded by Light Eco.

They realized that this place certainly hadn't been on any of the maps of the Underport, as the Eco would have likely been pillaged to help power the city or some similar purpose. However, that was a mere afterthought, as their primary focus was on the scrap that was left of the Death Bots.

"Well," Torn began, "she was alive after she fell, that much is certain."

"Let's just hope she hasn't bled out on us." Jinx added, drawing his weapons in case there were more bots lurking about, and making his way over to the structure in the center of the chamber.

Without hesitation, Torn joined him, and the two Revenants slipped into the small river of Light Eco, and waded across to some stairs that were set in the side. They then approached the doors of the structure, and noticed that they were open, while a light source that was so bright that they had to shut off their night vision filled the area. As their vision returned to the normal spectrum, their souls felt relief unlike anything they'd ever known before when they saw what was inside.

The aqua haired elf was still alive, and was on her feet, staring about at what was inside of the strange building, which was dominated by a large statue.

"Keira!" they exclaimed at the same time, causing her to whirl about as they rushed towards her.

The girl turned around just in time to find her friends grasping her in a bone crushing hug, all their gruff dignity cast aside at the relief of finding her alive, and in one piece to boot.

"Guys…" she gasped. "Please, I need air!"

The two Revenants immediately backed off, both grateful that their helmets covered their faces, which were now an interesting shade of red as they realized what they had done.

"Where's Tess?" Keira asked, curious about where her friend was.

"Bawling her eyes out back at the Naughty Ottsel." Jinx remarked. "She doesn't we're down here."

"You came by yourselves?" the mechanic/weapons specialist asked, a look of bafflement upon her face.

"Actually, neither one of us figured that we'd be bumping into the other." Torn remarked, slinging his morph gun over his shoulder as he looked Keira over. "Right now, I'm just curious as to how you survived that fall, your suit's a mess."

"It's a long story…" she began, and proceeded to tell them what had happened.

* * *

"You sure you didn't hit your head on the way down?" Jinx inquired, scratching his helmet.

"I know it sounds crazy," Keira said, "but that third Hunter Killer attacked the other one."

"That doesn't seem very droid like to me." The demolitions expert responded, shrugging his shoulders.

She'd finished her tale, and the two of them had bought the story of the Light Eco after she demonstrated her abilities before them, though they had all but had to remove their helmets to put their eyes back in their sockets. Also, none of them had managed to come up with any theories as to how this phenomenon might have happened, aside from the obvious fact that she was a Channeler. Thus, it had been opted that they would simply have a little chat with her adoptive father when they next saw him.

However, they were still having a hard time buying her tale of the two Death Bots fighting each other.

"I know, which is why I'd like to grab their heads before we get out of here." She responded. "I want to see if I can figure out what caused that last one to go maverick."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Jinx responded, before turning his attention to the structure they were standing in. "That just leaves us to figure out what this place is. After all, it seems a little convenient."

"It's a shrine, or a tomb, one of the two." Keira answered, turning her back to them and walking up to the statue in the center of the place.

It was only then that the two Revenants looked up and realized that it was a larger than life carving of a Precursor. It was armored, and its right fist was cocked up into the air, the strange longsword like weapon attached to it extended and nearly brushing the ceiling.

"How do you know that?" Torn asked, once he'd recovered form the sense of awe that he had been overcome by.

In response, the girl pointed to a metallic plaque that was at the base of the statue, upon it was inscribed a message, written in Precursian tongue. A moment passed, and she began to translate it for them.

"May your Ancestors guide you to eternal rest, Phoenix Lostarr, and the gods grant you the peace that you have earned…the peace that has been denied unto me. Rest undisturbed, my brother, and know that I shall see this battle through to its end, and bring your slayers to justice." She read, before looking back up at the others.

"The inscription was signed by a one Praetor Tarath Shien." She said, her now glowing eyes boring into the two soldiers. "Ring any bells?"

"Holy gods…" was all Jinx could state. "We're standing in the burial chamber of another Precursor Praetor?"

"He's not buried here." Keira said with a shake of her head. "I couldn't find a coffin of any sorts. The inscription hints that the Metal Heads were the ones who killed this guy, and my guess is that they didn't leave much a corpse in their wake."

"Well, as much as I'd like to continue to speculate on the lives and lifestyles of the Precursors, "Torn said, looking back out the door, "I think we've spent enough time down here. We're pushing our luck, so let's just grab those clanker heads and get out of here."

Keira and Jinx quickly agreed with him, and they quickly rushed outside and scrambled about, nabbing the two heads of the lightweights, as the heavy hadn't enough of a head left to salvage, and Keira's helmet as well. The two soldiers then rigged up their grappling hooks again, and waited for the girl to come and grab a hold of them. However, she simply smirked at them, and transformed once again, letting her strange wings carry her up and out of the chamber.

"Women." Jinx muttered with a smile, before following her up.

There was certainly going to be a celebration when they got back to the Naughty Ottsel tonight.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, once again I state that I was attempting to proofread this myself, so if you spot any errors, please point them out to me so I can correct them.

I also hope and pray that I wasn't hopelessly cliché in the manner in which Keira acquired her powers, and if this prove to be the case, please feel free to bash me in ay way you see fit, as I am still wearing my +3 breastplate and various other enchanted armor.

That said, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and that you have a great week and I wish you all a Merry Christmas, Happy Holildays, and a very joyous New Year.


	13. To search for a Hero

(Steps out of the shadows, a frown upon his face)

Good day to you all, and I wish I could say the same for myself, as it has been a very hectic week, and I have scarcely had time to squeeze in my writing. As such, this chapter is probably the worst one I have written for this story thus far. Not to mention, I cannot help but feel that I am rushing things. Perhaps it is merely my imagination, but I shall leave that up to you people.

Lawyers: I own nothing, so don't come knocking on my door trying to sue me.

* * *

&

* * *

To search for a Hero.

Torn paced back and forth in the Naughty Ottsel, trying to figure out what should be done next. A week had passed since Keira's miraculous awakening had occurred, and she had quickly proven to be an invaluable asset on the battlefield, both with the advent of her newly discovered powers, and with the inevitable morale boost that had come from having yet another Channeler in their midst. Not to mention the psychological factor that her angelic battle form had upon the troops, making it appear as if the Heavens themselves sided with them in the conflict.

The Metal Heads had also become far more hesitant in their attacks, as their fear of death had greatly diminished since Jak and Kage had been banished to the Wasteland. The appearance of a replacement had brought that fear back into them.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said of the Death Bots, whose egoless computer minds still made survival a very precarious thing for them. Complicating things was the fact that while Keira had spent every single waking moment she wasn't fighting examining the CPUs of the two Hunter Killers that they'd brought back, she was not really much closer to figuring out how the maverick one was reprogrammed, if that was what had happened to it at all.

Sighing to himself abruptly, the hardened commander walked over to a booth and let himself collapse against the soft seats, whereupon he began to rub his temples, trying it will away the headache that he could feel rising up within himself.

There was a strange bit of hopelessness welling up within him as well. They were cut off from the rest of Haven, had enemies on all fronts despite their best attempts to take out the tunnels that led to this area, and even with the windfall of Keira's abilities, it would only be a matter of time before they were overrun.

Gods, how he wished Ashelin was here. She'd always had a better grasp of long range tactics than he did, probably one reason that he'd never make much higher rank than he was right now.

That feeling of longing for the daughter of Praxis soon turned to thoughts of disgust as he remembered who was responsible for landing them in this nigh impossible to win scenario: Veger. Heaven help him, the image of the Count's smug grin and his absolute confidence in his textbook attack plan brought a burning rage to the heart of the Revenant leader, and he wondered how many had died for this…

He swore that if he ever got the chance, he would make Veger pay for all the men and women he'd sent into the next life.

In war, causalities were inevitable, any soldier with a pair of brain cells to rub together knew that, knew that if you sent them out, the odds were that not everyone would return. However, what made all the difference was whether or not those soldiers died for a good cause, if they gave their lives and they made a difference in doing so. That was a life that had been spent, the bloody currency that war demanded.

What had happened in the attack…those were lives that had been wasted, soldiers who had died needlessly in a battle that should have been fought differently, that would have been fought differently had the council not been in charge.

For the life of him, Torn swore he'd never figure out why Veger and his cronies, politicians who probably had never seen a battle from the front lines before in their lives, thought that they were soldiers.

Still, bellyaching wasn't going to help them now, and as he refocused his attention to trying to figure out how to get everyone out of this disaster, the tattooed soldier found himself praying for a miracle, for something that he could use to turn the tide back in their favor…if for no other reason than for those who had shed their blood for this campaign to not have died in vain.

* * *

Some hours later, he sat in the same booth, caught somewhere between the world of the waking and dreamland. Tess was already asleep, trying to catch as much as she could before the next attack came, while Keira continued to fiddle around with the CPUs, and Jinx kept rigging up more homemade explosives from what he had been able to scrounge up in the Harbor.

It was then that the miracle that Torn had been praying for chose to manifest itself.

There was a garbled crackling noise that suddenly emanated from the holo vid table set in the center of the bar, and after a couple of seconds, a distorted noise that sounded almost like a voice. A couple of seconds later, it cleared up, and the signal came through.

"Hello, anyone home?" the person on the other end said, a voice that Keira and Tess, who had been woken up by the noise, knew particularly well.

"Sig?" they both exclaimed at the same time, looking at each other and then over to the table that his voice had come from.

"Oh, lovely," the Wastelander said upon hearing them, a grim tone to his humor that indicated he was very much on edge, "I was afraid I might have had the wrong number."

"Where are you?" Tess asked, curious as to how he was able to communicate with them, as the Lockdown shields should have been scrambling the signal beyond any hope of it getting through.

"Down in the sewers underneath the Industrial District at the moment." he responded. "And let me tell you, securities getting a little tight around here." A light and brief chuckle followed the statement.

"Then how in the name of the Ancients are you yakking with us at the moment?" Jinx inquired, scratching his head in disbelief.

"Simple, cherries, I got a telecommunications pack with me and I spliced into the power cables running down here." The large elf informed them, which had the humorous result of Jinx and Torn both slapping themselves in the faces.

"Why didn't we think of that?" Jinx groaned, shaking his head at his own stupidity.

Such a device would enable them to run a signal _underneath_ the disruptive energy of the sector barriers and thus allow for undisruptive communication with other units or the GHQ.

"Probably because it was too obvious." Sig responded, a smirk detectable in his voice.

"So why are you giving us a call right now?" Keira inquired, cocking her head slightly and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Because I know things aren't going too well for you guys right now," was the response that the Wastelander gave to them, "and I know that you could really use the help of a certain exiled prince."

One could have heard a pin drop in the room as he finished, as everyone stood stock still, stunned by this apparent revelation that he was telling them. Keira was the first to snap out of it.

"You know where Jak is?" she said, her voice quiet, scarcely daring to hope.

"Sure do." he told her. "If you can get out here to where I am, I can take you to where he is, and being his wife and all, you might be able to convince him that he needs to get his butt back to this place rather than drinking in the sights and sounds of the desert."

A quick glance was exchanged amongst the four elves, which was followed by a mad rush to try and get things together for an extraction op. Morph guns were loaded, grenades were attached to belts, and bandoliers of power packs were thrown over shoulders while the four Revenants hastily donned their armor as well.

Keira slipped her helmet over her head, grateful beyond measure that the damage it and the rest of the Katarn battle suit had suffered hadn't been beyond repair, though it would be obvious to even a person needing glasses that the gear had certainly seen better days.

Time was also taken to allow for them to get their hands of some communications gear, in hopes that they might be able to emulate Sig and finally get word back to Ashelin and the others in the Residential Sectors that there were indeed some people in the Harbor that were still alive and kicking.

All in all, preparation took them about twenty minutes, and then they were off, heading towards the nearest manhole cover.

* * *

She was alone now, having left Torn, Jinx and Tess some ways back, while they attempted to rig up their little comm. device, a silent prayer upon her lips that it would work.

As for herself, she was busy trekking through the sewers of the Industrial District, her active camouflage generator on just to be safe, as while the Hunter Killers might have been able to see heat, she had come to suspect that little upgrade might have been left out of the rank and file battle droids.

Her fellow Revenants had been most reluctant to let her wander off alone, the memories of last week fresh upon their minds. However, Keira had been adamant, and had pointed out that her newfound powers would enable her to take care of herself. Not to mention that the sooner that comm. link was up, the sooner they could get into contact with Ashelin and get some orders on what to do. Maybe if they were lucky, they might even be able to come up with a plan to bail everyone out and hold out together long enough for her to return with Jak.

It also left her with some time in solitude to contemplate upon what had happened to her. The initial spike of adrenaline and the curiosity that had overwhelmed her about the nature of the shrine that she had uncovered had put off any thought she might have had for what had occurred a week ago.

After all it was to be expected, considering she'd fallen to what should have been her death, only to find herself transformed into what could only be described as an angelic being. The explanation was rather logical and rational: that she was a Channeler, and judging by her experimental attempts to absorb Green Eco later on, an Ascended one at that.

It had left her wondering if maybe those strange nightmares that she'd been having were more than simply nightmares. After all, she knew little of her time before Sandover, and she was rather well aware of the fact that she was not Samos' daughter. This also made her wonder why her father hadn't told her before now, as that was info that they really could have used a little bit earlier.

For some reason, it also had her longing for the presence of Onin, as she knew from experience, that if that old seer didn't know the answer to the question, that there likely wasn't one.

And who knew, maybe Jak might have a few answers for her as well. After all, he had been there, done that, right?

She was suddenly yanked out of her musings by a warning from her ears that something might have been amiss.

She heard the faint pulsing and cracking that could have only been blaster fire. Her mind instantly realizing that it might have been some of the Freedom Guard that had somehow managed to survive the disastrous counter attack. That thought on her mind, she moved forward as quickly as she dared, not wishing to give herself away in the event that Hunter Killers were present within the enemy ranks.

But when she peeked around the corner that the weapons fire appeared to be coming from, she was in for yet another shocking twist in the already strange nature of this war that was raging.

There were Death Bots alright, and they were indeed battling with something, but it was not at all what the aqua haired elf had expected to find.

A group of about a half dozen or so Rollers, with three scouting Hawks thrown in to mix things up, were duking it out with what appeared to be a pair of auto-turrets that were hanging down from the top of the sewer passage. The smoldering remains of several of the crimson armored droids littered the floor, and even as the Channeler watched the unfolding battle, one of the Hawks found itself the target of a turret barrage.

A multitude of small, thin Eco bolts came from the barrel of one of the mounted blasters, catching the flying robot before it had a chance to evade. The rounds ripped through its armor as if the plates weren't even there, and within seconds, the machine came crashing down, exploding in a heap that sent shrapnel flying into its comrades, damaging them as well.

An image flashed through the mind of the young elf, an image of the remains of Metal Heads that she and the others had found, slain and full of tiny holes.

Instantly, she realized what had happened to the Hora-quan.

She was confused, trying to figure out what was going on here. She knew the power grid of Haven City rather well, as she'd help orchestrate quite a few sabotages upon the systems during the reign of Baron Praxis, and never could she recall coming across power supplies for sewer turrets, aside from the large ones that Praxis had installed and Jak had later blown up. Furthermore, these weapons didn't even resemble normal elven mounted weapons, being far sleeker, and dare she say, more elegant in appearance than the ones they used. Not to mention the fact that even their method of firing seemed different.

Two flashes, back to back, testified to the destruction of a pair of Roller bots, and then something else caught her attention.

She had been a little curious as to how the turrets had put up with the abuse that they'd doubtless been put through; even as that thought passed through her keen mind, a pair of Eco bolts, fired from a Hawk, connected with one of the guns. However, rather than reducing it to slag, or even causing the metal, if that was indeed what they were made of, to glow from the heat, the bolts were suddenly stopped, and dissipated as a shimmering field appeared around the gun, and she felt her eyes grow wide as the realization hit her.

The mounted weapons were shielded.

She shook her head slightly, wondering if it had possibly been an illusion, a product of her imagination. However, another shot slammed home, or tried to, a moment later, and was again stopped by the energy field surrounding the turret. The auto-gun then targeted the offending battle droid, and with a few well placed shots, turned it into scrap.

Keira kept her eyes riveted upon the scene of the battle as the gears of her brain whirred, trying to grasp what this could mean.

The concept of an energy shield was not a new thing, and had been theorized about ever since her kind had first noted that Channelers had been able to use Green and Light Eco to create barriers of that nature. However, while scientists and technicians alike had tried for ages, they had had only partial success in that field. True, they had the Shield Wall, but even it was something of a mystery to the elves, as after all, Mar had had help when he'd begun its construction, and they'd never really been able to duplicate it to any practical degree, the few units that they had being insanely inefficient with massive appetites for power, which would have also made it impossible for them to get the units small enough for field use.

And yet, here before her now, was the seeming impossibility, of weapons that possessed such personal defensive countermeasures.

As the two ceiling mounted guns turned another couple of Rollers into smoldering wreckage, leaving just a pair left with a single Hawk hovering above them, the young tech head realized that if such technology could ever be duplicated, that its potential applications would be limitless.

The last three battle droids held their ground, firing furiously upon the strange auto guns, and they actually managed to take down the shielding on one of them, as the Eco bolts of their blasters started to connect with metal rather and an invisible energy field. However, before they could make anymore headway, the pair of turrets quickly turned them into slag.

Wide eyed, Keira watched as they then zipped back up into the ceiling of the chamber, hidden away and utterly invisible.

Something also puzzled her then, something she had thought about distantly, but had really concentrated upon while watching the firefight unfold.

Who had been controlling those guns?

Might it have been some soldiers from the Freedom Guard that had stumbled across them, or had some technician back at the GHQ have located them remotely and figured out how to turn them on?

Or could it have been that there was another party involved altogether, that someone else, apparently not on the side of the battle droids, had taken an interest in how things were unfolding in Haven City?

Vividly, Keira recalled a week ago, when she had watched the maverick Hunter Killer destroy one of its supposed comrades, and she couldn't help but wonder if they had an unseen ally running around somewhere.

Still, she was able to realize that she still needed to get a move on, as she had to link up with Sig, and still had no idea exactly where in the sewers that he was.

* * *

She'd been trekking on her own through the sewers for another half hour before she finally caught a break. She got close enough to where Sig was that the Wastelander was able to communicate with her over a comm. channel. As luck would also have it, the burly elf was also very good at handing out directions, so it was only a matter of minutes before she was able to link up with him. She came around the bend in the sewers that he was holed up in, her active camouflage disabled so that she didn't startle him, as she hadn't forgotten what he'd nearly done to Jak in the Underport when the Metal Heads had swarmed the city all those months ago.

Sure enough, there he was, cybernetic eye and everything, a smile on his face as he saw the girl approaching him.

"Nice armor." He remarked, giving her the one's over. "Looks good on you."

"Thanks." She said, before opting to get right down to business, especially considering it meant that she'd finally be able to meet up with her soul mate again. "You said you could get me to where Jak was."

"Yep, sure can." Sig responded, before shouldering his rifle and motioning for her to follow. "Just watch my six and I'll get us to where I left my ride parked. It's not to far from here, and while I don't think those over glorified trash compactors will give us any trouble, it never hurts to be careful."

"Tell me about it." the aqua haired elf muttered, rolling her glowing eyes behind her helmet.

She then took up position behind the dark skinned elf, and the two of them began to make their way out of the sewers. However, something bothered Keira the entire time that they were on the move, and finally, that curiosity got the better of her.

"Sig?" she asked abruptly, waiting until the Wastelander responded with a grunt. "Why are you doing this?"

"What do you mean?" he inquired, never taking his eyes off the path in front of them.

"Why are you offering to help like this?" she explained while maintaining a sharp vigilance in regards to her surroundings. "You're not exactly a big fan of Haven City, so why are you offering to help us get back the one person who we need to win?"

"I ain't doing it for this town, Keira." Sig responded with a growl. "I don't own Haven anything, especially after all the things Krew had me do." His voice was laced with venom and he spat the old gangster's name like it was the most bitter of poisons. "But you and Jak have both gotten me out of some rather tight spots before, so I kind of owe it too the both of you to do this."

"I see." She muttered quietly, digesting this revelation.

It didn't take them very long to get out of the sewers, and they managed to avoid any confrontation with the red colored, mechanical locals, for which both were quite grateful.

* * *

From there, they made their way up through the foot hills and cliffs that surrounded the area outside the Industrial District, and before long, they came across a small recess that was in the side of one of the cliffs. Sig took a quick sweep of the area to make certain that there was nothing hostile around them or within the small cave, before motioning for Keira to stay put. He then trotted inside, and disappeared into the shadows.

About thirty seconds later, a loud roar echoed within the cave, and while Keira knew instinctively that it was a motor, it did not sound like any she had ever heard before. The growl increased in volume, and the next thing she knew, a large vehicle of some sort came out of the recess, and she felt as if her jaw had suddenly decided to unhinge itself.

The strange vehicle that Sig was in was unlike anything she could ever recall observing, as moved along the ground on four extremely large wheels. Aside from that, the vehicle was also very heavily armored, with what appeared to be titanium-A battle plates covering just about every conceivable inch of the boxy frame. She also couldn't help but notice the large, cannon like gun mounted on the back of the thing.

"What do you think of my baby?" Sig inquired, a crooked smile upon his face as he patted the steering wheel.

"Interesting…" was Keira's remark as she continued to stare at the massive dune buggy.

"Glad you like her, now climb on board and get comfortable, cause this trips gonna be a long one." The Wastelander told her, gesturing towards the passenger side seat of his ride.

Quickly as she could, the aqua haired elf got herself situated, and Sig then proceeded to put the petal to the metal, and they were off.

* * *

His face bruised and beaten almost beyond the point of recognition, the monk hit the ground, what little breath he was able to hold in his lungs was driven from them.

Weakly, groaning all the while, he picked his head up off of the floor, and stared up at the person in charge of the torment.

The elf was covered in spiked steel armor, which could not hide the sheer size of the person inside. He was easily seven feet tall, and composed of about four hundred pounds of rock solid muscle. However, only a fool would believe this man to be a muscle bound idiot, for one look in his eyes revealed a glow one would normally associate with street wise cunning and guile. They also held a cruelty that was almost overwhelming.

His true name was unknown,but he was called Scourge, and he was the iron heart of the Marauders, an elf who was feared for his malice and his brutality, and rightly so.

Right now, he was very pleased with the way things had been going. It had been all too easy to snatch those foolish Wastelander monks right out of the desert, as they really weren't adept at hiding their movements. Their escort had been dealt with easily enough, though they themselves were under strict orders not to be harmed during the capture, and none had been.

Only the most stupid and suicidal person would disobey a direct order from someone like himself, as death, when it finally came, would seem a blessed mercy compared to what he did to those who violated his will.

His torturers had been skilled, though it had taken weeks to finally get them to crack and break under the sickening treatments that they had been put through.

Scourge turned his attention to a strange object in his room. It was about five and a half feet long, one end of it was sphereical with a hole set into it, and it hadthree triangularly shaped rods that came out of the main part,which were lined with strange depressions on the inside that if all three were to be pressed together would be circular.

He had known it to be a Precursor made artifact the moment he'd laid eyes upon it, and he'd also been fairly certain that it had been a weapon. However, he hadn't had a clue as to how to power it up, which was something that this monk lying beaten and battered upon the ground in front of him had conveniently provided for him.

Eco Crystals were the key, and after many years of combing the desert, dozens of the rare gems had been found by his men, so that would not be an issue. Now there was only the process of rigging them up, as they had about eighteen of the devices altogether.

He smiled behind his mask as he made his way over to his metal throne, before sitting back against it and resting one of his hands against the weapon that was always close to him.

It was a massive blade, fully seven feet long when one included the hilt, about eight inches wide, and about two thick for the most part. The weapon was something that would have seemed impossible to wield, yet his massive strength allowed him to do it with relative ease, something many a Wastelander warrior had found out posthumously.

His two enforcers began to walk towards the fallen monk, their weapons out and ready to end the wretches life. However a swiftly extended hand on his part prevented them from carrying out the murder. They looked somewhat confused, and he opted to elaborate his plan to them.

"Let him live." He said, his voice deep and gravely, and laced with cruelty. "Let him live with the knowledge that he has given us the means of finally triumphing over that outsider and the rest of the Wastelanders."

Realizing the malicious intent of their ruler, the two Marauders exchanged a glance, before holstering their weapons and taking the pour soul back to a holding cell.

Scourge, meanwhile, merely glanced over to the strange gun like weapon, and smiled once more.

It would take two days to get everything ready, and then their greatest victory would be at hand.

* * *

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Okay, that's a wrap. Once again, I apologize if this chapter was lacking in quality. Thus, feel free to blast the living daylights out of me.

The good news is that the next chapter should be better than this one, and about twice as long, as it will deal with a couple of reunions, one of which should probably be unexpected, and Jak's third trial in the arena, which will be quite a bit different from the one in the game.

On another note, by about chapter sixteen, Keira should be getting the rest of her powers, and I think I have finally decided upon a form, but I think I need to runt his by you people. Her Ascended Form will be somewhat humanoid, though she will possess triple jointed legs in a nature similar to Kage, and her legs and hands will have draconic like scales. She will also have marks similar to Kage, and will also retain the wings of her current form.

Probably a really bad idea, so please let me know what you think.

Thank you once again for taking the time to read this, and feel free to leave me any form of criticism, flames, advice, ideas, or feedback of any kind.

Thank you, and have a great day. (bows)


	14. Morituri te Salutant

(Emerges from the shadows, robes having seen better days

Hello to you all once again, and I hope you've been having a great week. As for myself, school has started back (sarcastic 'Yaaaayyy') and it looks like this latter semester is going to be a little rough…

At any rate, I want to once again extend my thanks to all of you who reviewed, and those I could not directly reply to, please leave your e-mail addresses so I can respond on a more personal level, since the administrators here apparently deiced to go and ban simply posting replies in the chapters…

Okay, this chapter is fairly long, though I fear it is hopelessly clichéd (beats self over head) and for those of you wondering about the title, assuming that my Latin skills haven't completely deserted me, it translates into "We who are about to die salute you" the age old gladiator cry, which I felt was appropriate considering the nature of this chapter.

Lawyers: I hereby swear upon my immortal soul that I own nothing save the ideas and characters that have sprung up in my demented mind, all other characters belong to ND, and all powers not of my own design belong to their respective creators, so bugger off!

That said, here's chapter fourteen.

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* * *

Morituri te Salutant

His legs crossed and his palms folded on top of each other in his lap, Jak Mar sat in a room within the Spargus Palace, meditating quietly. Even though he was not in a combat situation, he still wore the armor that Tarath had given him, finding that the gentle humming of the HUD systems was surprisingly calming. It was a strange, paradoxical irony that was not lost upon him, that he could be brought to peace by the humming and pulsing of a set of equipment designed for the sole purpose of enhancing his already formidable abilities and turning him into an even more dangerous killing machine.

Off to his right, Daxter slept, curled up as he always was, a faint smile upon his furry visage and an occasional muttered word that left him little doubt as to what his compadre was dreaming about.

In about an hour, it would be time for his third and final confrontation within the arena, one that if he succeeded in, would make him a full citizen of the desert city, to be looked upon as an equal. The thought of finding acceptance, after all this time, warmed his heart.

Some time passed, and then he heard it faintly, the scuffling of feet upon stone, the movements of someone who did not wish to be detected.

He opened his reptilian eyes and glanced over his HUD screens, all the while giving no outward indication of the change of his state of awareness.

From his rear view HUD screen, he saw the intruder come around the corner, and much to his irritation, discovered it to be Seem. It was all he could do to suppress a groan, as he really didn't need to put up with her right now.

"What do you want, Seem?" he growled, not turning around to face her.

"How did you know it was me?" she inquired, surprise and shock manifested upon her tattooed face.

"You might say I've got eyes in the back of my head now." He told her, a smirk upon his visage, as he finally rose and turned around to face her. "Now, tell me what you wanted to say and get lost, I'm not in the mood to put up with you today."

"I wished to ask you about the armor you desecrate by wearing." She began.

'**_Oh, not this again…' _**Kage groaned, slapping his forehead with one hand while balling the other up into a fist.

"What is it with you and hating things associated with Dark Eco?" Jak growled, taking two steps towards her, looking down upon her. "For the love of Gaia, you're supposed to be spending your whole life researching the Precursors, don't you know that there were some of them that used Dark Eco in battle?" the dark elf paused for a moment, breathing deeply, before he continued. "And why do you think that Mar's Armor reacts to me like it does? Why do you think Kitetsu obeys me and me alone?" he exclaimed as loudly as he dared, fearing to wake Daxter. "It was because Mar himself was an Ascended Channeler aligned with Dark Eco!"

"Shut up!" Seem shouted at him, closing her burgundy eyes, letting memories wash over her, memories of people screaming, people dying. "They would never have used such evil!" she said, trying to convince herself that she was not denying the truth, that he was attempting to deceive her.

She opened her crimson eyes back up, and Jak and Kage were both startled to find unshed tears glistening in them, her questions forgotten. Without another word, the monk bolted, leaving the Ascended Channeler and his alter ego in a state of genuine confusion.

'**_That was…unexpected.' _**The oni stated, rubbing his chin in a perplexed manner.

'_You're telling me.' _His host concurred, cocking his head in bewilderment.

Both simply stood there for a time, wondering what this could have meant, and for the first time, wondering if there wasn't something that had happened to Seem that had made her as prejudiced as she was.

* * *

Off in another area of the palace, another person sat, lost within his own thoughts and sorrows.

The desert elf known as Valthos sighed to himself, lowering his head as his mind drifted back through times that were past, of a life that was no longer his. He thought of Haven City, of the time when he had once ruled there, when he had had a loving wife whom he cared for with all of his heart, and a young boy who was the sum of all his hopes and dreams.

One was dead, murdered at the hands of her own brother, and the other the gods only knew where, though he feared that the child was now with his mother, as despite years of searching, Sig had never managed to find him.

And it was all because of him, because of his own inability, his own failure.

His mind drifted, as it always did, to the attack upon the Metal Head nest, of the disaster that had set the whole tragedy in motion. How many other families had lost people to that catastrophe that had been his doing? He could still hear the screaming, the cries of men and women that were dying, lying in pools of their own blood. He could recall with absolute clarity the images that haunted him day and night, the wounded carrying each other, hobbling together back to a drop ship, of Hellcats and Scorpions being destroyed around him as the men and women under his command, the people who trusted their lives to him, died for an attack that was supposed to forever free them of the Hora-quan menace, and instead only wound up causing the deaths of thousands for nothing.

Lives wasted on a fool's dream.

He had stayed behind, tried to hold off the attack, and had succeeded for some time. However, he knew in his heart that he would not live out the day, and perhaps that would be the best, that he would die in payment for the folly that was his and his alone, atonement for those who had fallen needlessly.

But, by some twist of fate, his torment would not end there. The Metal Heads had swarmed him, and he had fallen, bleeding from scores of wounds to his face, sides, and anywhere that the Armor of Mar had not covered. They had left him for dead, thinking that someone as ripped and torn as he could not possibly live through such wounds. Yet somehow, he had survived, and had managed to wander out of the hell that he had foolishly attacked.

He couldn't recall much after that, just endless miles of sand and dust and of blistering heat. He'd collapsed shortly thereafter, his vision growing dark for what he'd hoped would be the final time.

Sig had found him, and in an act of mercy and compassion, had taken him back to Spargus, where the monks had managed to save his life.

He removed the cloth that covered his face as he thought about it, rubbing his hand over the many scars that covered his visage, still thinking about what had led up to these present moments.

Time had passed, and he had proven himself worthy of the Wastelanders' mercy and come to accept his new role, until the day had come when their previous king, an elf by the name of Corrick, had challenged him to combat in the arena. The reasoning of the old monarch had been simple, he was growing old, and he knew he would not be able to lead his people for much longer. As such, he had desired a worthy successor, and knowing full well who and what Damas had been, he knew that such a man would be a wise choice.

Damas hadn't discovered what Corrick's plan had been until the old king lay upon his knees, his head bowed before his blade. He hadn't wanted to do that, but the law of the arena was absolute.

That had been almost three years ago, nearly five since the disastrous attack. In those five years, he felt as though he had aged more than five decades as the stress and guilt and memories piled up upon his shoulders. Now, he sensed that time had come again.

Jak, he was everything that the Sand King could have hoped for in a successor. The boy was powerful, he had proven that much at least, he was cunning, able to think swiftly upon his feet, and he had also been cast out of the city of Haven, meaning it would be unlikely for him to have other plans, so to speak.

There was also the 'minor' fact of the young elf being in possession of both Mar's Armor and the royal blade, Kitetsu, his own former weapon. That the dark katana obeyed only him and that the armor, as he had learned through careful poking and prodding, had been given to him by its original creators, was proof enough that he was fit to lead the Wastelanders on to a better future than Damas ever could.

Besides, he longed for death, and its sweet release from the hell that his life had become.

His eyes hardened suddenly, and he walked over to his gunblade, smiling to himself as he began to prepare himself for what would hopefully be one last, grand fight before his life came to a close, as it should have years ago.

* * *

The gates of the desert city opened with a loud groaning sound as the massive dune buggy that Sig drove roared through them and into the courtyard. He carefully maneuvered over to the garage and then parked it, before hopping out and stretching as he jumped out. On the other side of the vehicle, Keira also leapt down, and those few others who happened to be in the garage took a moment to stare as they saw the armored soldier cracking her back. They were curious, as they had never seen the like of Katarn Mark II battle armor in their humble city before, and some might have actually been a little intimidated by the combination of the gray plate armor, the blue, T shaped visor, the two guns and the grenade bandolier that the tech head had in her possession at the moment.

"Glad that ride's over with." She muttered, and the Wastelanders present were actually surprised to find that it was a female encased within that stuff.

The trip had lasted the better part of twenty hours, and she marveled at the fact that Sig had even been able to make the journey in a dune buggy. Apparently, extra fuel tanks went a long way out in this gods forsaken desert.

Now, she simply had to find Jak, and she quickly asked Sig if he had any idea where the dark elf might be.

"Not really sure, been a while since I was here." The burly Wastelander replied with a shrug. "Just ask around though, I'm sure someone like him already has quite a reputation around these parts. As for me, there's someone I gotta go pay a visit to."

And with that, the Wastelander walked out of the garage, saying hello to the odd person as he went about. Keira simply stared about, not entirely sure where she should begin, and so she decided that she would simply ask the first person that she saw as to the whereabouts of her soul mate. After all, how many other Ascended Channelers could there be in this place?

That also made her wonder how she was going to break the news to her husband as to what exactly had happened to her.

* * *

His beloved Peace Maker slung over his shoulder, Sig had a smile upon his face as he entered the Monastery. Many would likely have found this particular smile strange for him, for it was not the one that he wore when he went out to send some Metal Heads back to whatever foul maker had created them. This one was warm, inviting, and there was a strange glow in his real eye that few had ever seen.

He reached a particular door, and knocked a couple of times before entering.

The reason for him being so upbeat was to be found inside these doors.

Unfortunately, his smile faded as soon as he laid eyes upon her.

Seem was lying there upon a simple, cot like bed, curled up into a ball, whimpering faintly.

Quietly, he shut the door behind him, and walked over to the other elf, a frown of concern replacing his smile as he reached her. He reached out gently, and shook her a little bit on the shoulder. Immediately, she bolted to full consciousness, and gasped. However, as soon as she recognized exactly who it was that had startled her, she promptly threw her arms around him, and a bone crushing hug ensued.

"Sig!" she exclaimed, a note of undeniable joy in her usually harsh and reserved tone.

"Sis, please, I need air!" the enforcer exclaimed, gasping playfully as he returned the gesture of affection.

A few seconds passed before they finally parted, and he smiled again as he laid eyes upon her.

She and he went way back, and he couldn't help but let his mind drift to when he had first found her.

He had been just a rookie Wastelander then, barely into adulthood, when he'd been out in the desert, scrounging around for artifacts. It was then that the most peculiar thing had happened. He'd been scanning through some macro-binoculars, searching for any signs of something out of the ordinary, like light reflecting off a piece of metal or crystal, when he'd spotted what appeared to be a moving figure off in the distance.

Being a newbie, he'd yet to learn to temper his zeal to prove himself to his fellows with common sense, and he'd immediately sped off to investigate what this could be. In this case, his rashness would prove to be the salvation of someone.

As he'd drawn closer, he'd discovered that it had indeed been a person, but he didn't think that it was a Marauder. After all, vicious and cunning as they could be sometimes, they normally didn't go parading around in the heat of the day with clothing that was rather ill-suited for this environment and would have been more at home in an upper class neighborhood. Furthermore, he'd realized that it was actually two elves, not one, and to his knowledge, there weren't a whole lot of children present within the Marauder ranks.

As luck would have it, it had been a mother and a child, what they were doing out here he could only guess at the time, but he wasn't about to leave them out here to die, which wouldn't be long in coming, as both appeared to be practically within Death's icy grip as it was.

Unfortunately, those his return was speedy indeed, the mother had already passed beyond the point of no return, and none of their healing arts could save her. The child was another story however, showing a surprising resilience to the Wasteland's killing heat. Perhaps it was guilt that they had been unable to save her mother, or it could have been that underneath this rough talking, Hora-quan slaughtering exterior of his, he was just a big softy, but he had taken her in, and they were now siblings, both of them allowing their emotional masks to slip when in the presence of the other.

Pulling himself back to reality, Sig stared down into Seem's eyes, and noticed that they were bloodshot, and it looked almost as if he had been weeping.

"What's wrong?" he asked, going into protective elder sibling mode.

Seem looked down at the floor suddenly, unsure of how she should confess what was troubling her. After all, Jak was constantly upon her mind. His very image, his every motion, brought back foul memories of her early childhood, and of a tyrant that had taken everything from her. She was confused about him, torn between her vendetta against those who used the darkness to aid them, and the truth that countless texts had bored into her.

Then the words began to spill forth in a torrent, and she found herself unable to stop as she told her older brother all that had happened since the exile had first been plucked out of the desert

Sig listened to it all, a faint smile slowly beginning to replace the frown as he heard her tale…

* * *

"Let me be the first to tell you, Sis," the burly Wastelander said with a low chuckle as her tale came to a close, "Jak's an okay kinda guy. He's got some anger issues, but so long as you don't get on his bad side, you shouldn't have any problems with him." He paused then, and took both of her hands, and she looked up into his eyes, both real and cybernetic. "Listen to me, Seem," he told her in a gentle tone of voice that few ever heard him use, "Jak is not like Nadeen, he's not out to conquer or destroy everything in sight."

"What should I do then?" the monk inquired, her tone one of a person who was lost.

"For starters, apologize to him." Sig told her, his tone slightly scolding. "I owe him my life a few times over, and Haven City itself is only standing right now because of him and that little split personality of his."

The monk paused, and seemed to look into herself, pondering her next potential course of action. After a time, she decided that she would heed her brother's words, and confront the Dark One, offering him her sincerest apologies after his third trial in the arena this day.

* * *

About thirty minutes had passed since the Wastelander and his sister had had their little chat with each other, and now they made their way to the arena, Sig confident in his friend's abilities to outperform any Marauder that might be sent in against him, while Seem swore in her heart she would do her best to try and look past the Ascended Channeler's unusual skills and see him for what he really was.

They had not been traveling together for very long when Seem stopped short, seeing something that she had never before observed. Sig however, merely cupped a hand to his mouth, and called out the name of the individual in question, who was currently running an armored hand through her aqua hair.

"Yo, Keira!" he called out, and the girl quickly whirled around at the sound of the familiar voice, something that was most welcome at this time.

"Hey Sig." She called back, before running over to where the duo was. "I can't find Jak anywhere, and everyone I've talked to just said something about an arena battle."

"You know the Dark One?" Seem inquired, curious about this female elf, whose green eyes seemed to almost glow.

"Seem, I'd like to introduce you to Keira Hagai, Jak's wife." Sig stated, a smile splitting his face almost in half. "Keira, meet Seem, my little sister."

"I didn't know you had any family." The aqua haired elf muttered, extending her hand towards the monk, who accepted it, shame scorching her on the inside.

"She's sort of adopted, you might say." was the Wastelander's reply to her. "As for Jak, follow us and you'll get to see him in action." He then set off for the arena stands.

"What do you mean?" Keira asked, cocking her head as she fell into step beside the enforcer.

"Our leader, King Valthos, managed to haul your hubby out of the desert thanks to a tracking beacon that I had Ashelin give him." Sig explained, noting the silent 'thank you' look that Keira gave to him. "But because of that, Jak owes Spargus a debt, one that he's gotta pay out by proving himself worthy of the mercy dealt to him. The arena is how an outsider earns citizenship within our humble community."

"And what exactly will he be going up against?" the tech head asked, a little bit of uncertainty in her tone.

"Probably just some Marauders we've captured." Sig told her with a shrug. "Besides, from what Seem's told me, Jak's been through it twice already, and he's made fillet's and the like out of the last two groups, and from what I understand, he didn't even go all out on em." He looked down towards her out of the corner of his eye. "Don't worry about a thing, he'll be fine."

"I know he will," the girl told him, "it's just, I don't want to risk losing him now that I've just found him again."

"You will not have to worry about that." Seem stated, her voice quiet as she recalled her own memories of the last two arena battles. "Your soul mate is more powerful than anything I have ever before seen. A hundred Marauders could not hope to best him in battle."

"And from what I've been told, he's picked up a nifty little gadget since he's arrived out here." Sig said, before proceeding to tell her exactly what said gadget was.

However, little did they know that it would not be Marauders that would be challenging the dark elf this time around, but a foe of an entirely different nature.

* * *

"Citizens of fair Spargus." Valthos called out, speaking for himself this time around as opposed to Pecker, his voice amplified by the acoustics of the arena. "For the third time, we have come to watch an exile try to earn his place among us, to try and find a home amongst the wastes." He paused then, waiting for the chamber on the far side of the arena to open and reveal the Ascended Channeler, and for the cheering to die down. "We have watched and heard, seen and been told of his exploits, and we all know him well."

Jak stepped onto the platform that would lead him to the arena, which seemed to have been constructed differently from his previous battles. Now, instead of a flat, football field type structure, there were columns place at regular intervals on it, and what almost looked like riot barriers in place at some locations.

He then turned his gaze back to the Sand King, who proceeded to speak some more.

"He who has slain Marauders." a brief note of cheering followed this, and Valthos raised his voice to be heard above it. "He who has slain Torresques." The cheering grew even louder, to where the ruler of Spargus had to scream to make himself heard. "He who has slain Kor, the leader of the Metal Heads himself!"

It was a wonder that Kerrog, Errol, and the rest of the Fallen Precursors didn't hear the noise of the Wastelander crowd all the way back on the Day Star.

The Sand King then held up his hands to call for silence, and after a few moments, the Wastelander's did so.

"And now, my people, we shall see if he can handle a new type of foe." Valthos said, before stepping forward onto a platform that had been next to his seating area.

There was a hush even greater than before as the platform brought the ruler of Spargus down to where the exile was, whose bewilderment was apparent even though he was encased in Vibrium armor.

'**_What in Mar's name?' _**Kage muttered from within his mind, quickly figuring out what was going on, but still wondering why.

"What are you doing?" Jak growled as Valthos stepped off the platform and approached him.

"Isn't it obvious, Jak?" The Sand King inquired, cocking his head to the side. "I'm going to test your mettle myself." His voice was quiet, so no one but the two of them could hear what it was that he said. "Best me if you wish to continue to live."

It was then that the dark elf noticed something upon the king that he never had seen before. There was a strange belt upon his waist, which looked like an ammo bandolier. The ruler of Spargus pressed on of them, and a handful of blue tinted containers fell into his hand, where he promptly crushed them. A glow of a similar hue surrounded him, and he suddenly leapt backwards, going up and coming down more than thirty feet away.

Both Jak and Kage's eyes widened simultaneously as they realized exactly what it was that they were up against here. Still, even as Valthos drew his gunblade, the dark elf unsheathed Kitetsu and readied himself for the first attack. Tense and ready, he was well prepared for when the Sand King leveled his weapon and his finger shot down to the trigger.

There was a loud bang that filled the arena, and the Ascended Channeler ducked down and twisted to the left, feeling the distortions in the air as a bullet whizzed past him. He then pushed off of the ground and pulled himself into a back flip as his foe continued to fire upon him. He twisted about while still in the middle of his jump, and he saw the white hot bits of metal fly past his various HUD screens as the Channeler down in the arena floor continued to shoot at him.

Coming down, he immediately threw himself behind one of the barricades that were now scattered around the arena, trying to formulate a plan of attack.

'**_Well, we could try to keep dodging for a while,' _**Kage growled in a manner that left his host unsure as to whether or not he was being sarcastic or not, **_'after all, he's got to run out of ammunition some time.' _**

'_How bout we just give him a taste of his own medicine?' _was the reply of the dark elf, as he suddenly leapt up from behind his cover, and caught Valthos attempting to reload his weapon.

He called upon his powers, and his hand shot out, unleashing a blast of dark lightning streaking from them towards where his foe was. Any normal opponent would have been caught in the blast and more than likely killed or put in the emergency room. However, the Sand King was far from a normal adversary, and as he was still under the effect of the Blue Eco coursing through his system, and he was a blur of movement as he dashed out of the way.

The dark elf growled in an irritated manner, and he realized that it had been far too long since he had battled a foe of this nature. Even in his sparring with Tarath, the Precursor Praetor had been limited to a single type of Eco, and as a result had not had quiet so many potential tricks up his sleeve.

The ruler of Spargus raced behind one of the columns that dominated the arena, and Jak quickly realized that he was probably finishing the process of reloading his weapon. It didn't take nearly as long as Jak had anticipated, as he came blasting around the edge of the metal column a few seconds later, his weapon cocked back in a position that Jak recognized as the Ataru fighting style.

The Ascended Channeler quickly summoned a phantom blade from Kitetsu, and as they met upon the arena floor, matched his foe blade for blade.

Valthos snapped his gunblade up from the left side, aiming a wicked strike for Jak's unarmored ribs. His weapon was a blur as it moved, but amazingly, Jak got Kitetsu down in time for the dark katana to intercept his weapon, slapping it harmlessly aside, while thrusting forward with the shadowy copy of the Blade of Mar, a blow that would have run the Sand King through if it had connected with him.

However, the ruler of Spargus had apparently anticipated such an attack, and ducked underneath the strike. He then brought his fist forward in a lightning fast strike at the dark elf's chest before he could readjust himself from his own attack. But he had failed to truly understand the powers that a master of the Juyo fighting style possessed, and while not quiet so fast as a Channeler using Blue Eco, Jak was still very fleet of foot, and Valthos found himself having to yank his hand back in order to keep it attached to his respective wrist as Kitetsu flipped in towards him.

His gunblade still held dagger style, Valthos dropped to the ground, before using his augmented speed to roll around behind the Ascended Channeler, thinking to take him by surprise.

But Jak saw the attack coming upon the rear view screen of his HUD, and the phantom blade was there waiting for the attack, swatting it harmlessly aside. Another strike came in, and this time, the dark katana itself would deflect the blow. Twice more Valthos tried to cut down his adversary from behind, and twice more the dark elf blocked his strikes.

Outwardly, he let out a growl of frustration, inwardly, the Sand King smiled as he began to fully grasp what Jak was capable of. Given time, he had little doubt that the boy would be a mighty and long remembered ruler when he had taken his place.

But he still wanted this last battle of his to be one for the ages, and so he stepped back suddenly, and leveled his gunblade, firing one handed. The Ascended Channeler saw the attack coming, and ducked, spinning around to face his adversary as he did so, before throwing his shadow blade at the ruler of Spargus. Valthos leapt over the attack, and kept firing, keeping his opponent on the defensive for as long as he could manage.

But as he ducked underneath the returning phantom weapon, he watched Jak blast towards him, reaching up and grabbing the airborne katana, before coming in with both blades slashing in. With impossible speed, Valthos managed to deflect both strikes, slapping them away with the flat of his gunblade. But before he could make a move for his own, the dark elf that was his adversary sent the two swords in towards him again, Kitetsu coming down from above in an attempt to hack his left arm off at the shoulder while the copy of it came in from the side in an attack that was aimed at the Sand King's right hip.

The ruler of Spargus barely managed to block Kitetsu with his gunblade and step out of the way of the phantom blade's attack. However, as Kitetsu bit into the length of his weapon, he could feel the strength that the dark elf had put into his blow, and knew that one successful strike would be all that it took to be the end of him. However, he could hardly pause to dwell upon that, as Jak decided to let his momentum from the side attack carry through, and he spun around, bringing both of his swords in from the right side, one aimed at Valthos' neck, the other one just below his ribs.

Valthos got his gunblade over in time, and used the greater length of his weapon to block the strikes, his muscles bulging as he struggled to hold back the power behind the blows, and he didn't miss the nice little cuts that the two blades had made in his own weapon. However, keeping all of his attention focused on stopping those attacks had left him unprepared for what happened next, as the dark elf, still keeping his two katanas locked up, leapt and planted both of his armored feet into the Sand King's chest. Valthos staggered backwards, expecting the killing blow to fall at any second as he realized how exposed he was.

Much to his surprise, the Ascended Channeler merely stood where he was, as if he was waiting for the ruler of Spargus to return to the fight. Mistakenly thinking that the dark elf was mocking him, Valthos felt his rage suddenly begin to boil in his blood. However, he was wise enough that even though their melee fight had lasted less than a minute, even with his speed enhanced with Blue Eco that he had absorbed, he knew that he was no match for Jak, with his whirling blades and perfect coordination. Thus, he decided that it was time for an alternate strategy. Depressing another one of the containers on his belt, the Wastelander ruler caught the vials with ease, and crushed them.

At the same time, Jak was holding a mental conversation with his alter ego.

'**_What in the nine hells does he think that he is doing?' _**the oni snarled confused and feeling betrayed, as he had little doubt that those attacks that Valthos had attempted had been for real.

'_I'm not sure.' _Jak responded mentally, just as baffled as the Dark Eco demon over the current situation, and no less pleased.

Their conversation was interrupted by a battle cry coming from Valthos' throat, and both refocused their attention just in time to duck a beam of Yellow Eco that had been sent flying their way. His reptilian eyes narrowed menacingly behind his helmet as he looked back up, the dark elf grit his teeth, and promptly announced his retaliation in the form of a thrown shadow blade, followed swiftly by a dark bolt attack. The three small orbs raced out of his extended hand, and Valthos' own eyes widened as he saw them streaking right in towards himself.

Growling, he threw himself to one side and barely managed to get behind one of the barricades before the attack passed through the area that he had occupied mere moments before.

Pressing the attack, Jak rushed towards the Sand King, leaping up at the last moment and changing his direction as he passed over the barricade that his opponent was hiding behind. Another beam of Yellow Eco crackled through the area that he would have passed through, but Valthos was quick to realize his error, and turned to face his adversary.

Only to find himself swearing and diving to one side as Jak pushed off of a column and came blasting back at him, a small storm of Dark Eco lightning leading the way in front of him.

Up in the stands, Seem, Sig, and Keira all watch the unfolding battle with mixtures of confusion and fear. Daxter, Pecker, and Kleiver were also present but on the opposite side of the arena, and being so absorbed in the fight down below, that they did not notice who else might be in the audience.

"What is going on, Sig?" Keira exclaimed, her glowing eyes wide as she forced the burly Wastelander to look at her. "You said he would just be facing Marauders!"

"Oh dear gods," was all the armored elf could mutter, "I was afraid he was going to do this soon."

"Wha?" was all she had to say to that, and it fell to Seem to explain what was going on.

"King Valthos has long been weary of his life upon this world." She stated, his voice quiet and somber. "He has long sought release from the guilt that haunts him every day. However, he has refrained from ending it all because of his responsibilities to us. It would seem as though he has found someone he believes is capable of shouldering the burden in his place."

"What do you mean?" Kiera asked, cocking her head slightly.

"I have seen both your soul mate and his majesty battle." The monk replied, turning to face her fully. "The Dark One is far beyond what King Valthos is capable of matching. This battle he has arranged between them is a glorified suicide, and he knows it. He seeks one last battle before he meets his ancestors."

Keira's look of disbelief was all that was necessary for them to understand that she wanted to deny such a barbaric act.

"Two parties enter." Sig said, his voice very much subdued. "One party leaves. Such is the law of the arena."

Over on the other side of the stands, Daxter was having a very similar reaction.

"Say that again?" he screeched, his eyes bugged out as he looked up at Kleiver.

"Only one of them is going to live to see the end of the day. "The quartermaster replied with a helpless shrug. "And my money says it's going to be your mate, after all that I've seen him do."

"And you just let oh high and might King Valthos walk out there to face him!" The ottsel responded, his voice one of disbelief.

"It was his choice, rodent," Kleiver. stated in a weary tone, leaning back against the wall as another Eco based explosion occurred down in the arena, toppling one of the columns to the ground. "He wants to make certain that his people are looked after, and he seems to think that Jak's the man for the job. I don't like it, but it's our way." he said, before giving a humorless laugh. "Besides, what could I do to stop him?"

Daxter simply gave a disgusted sigh, and returned his attention to the battle down below.

Jak leap backwards into the air to avoid another ranged attack from his foe, before performing a flip maneuver, and then calling upon his powers once again. Staring at where Valthos was, he focused his powers, and an orb of darkness formed in his left hand. He then hurled the dark bomb at the Sand King, which he easily avoided via a sideways leap. However, what the ruler of Spargus hadn't anticipated was that Jak, while still coming down from his leap, would calculate his approximate landing area, and then hurl a second dark bomb attack right there.

Too late, Valthos saw his error, and he couldn't stop his momentum in time to prevent himself from going right into the Dark Eco.

He screamed in pain as he felt the substance eat into, and in his heart, he knew that if it were not for the mixed blessing of his heritage, that he would have been very, very dead. As it was, he was simply in a lot of agony, but he was not yet finished. He was quickly able to find cover, and then he dispensed a few vials of Green Eco, which he quickly used to heal himself. Thus renewed, he stepped out to continue to the fight.

However, there were complications hindering his fighting efforts. For starters, he was out of Blue Eco, and the last of his Yellow had been used up in his ranged fight, which Jak had again proven himself to be superior in. Not to mention that most of his first aid kit had just effectively been used up. This left him really with only Red Eco left to use against his opponent, and he knew that strength alone would never even come close to making him a match against an adversary as deadly as Jak was.

Valthos was outgunned by the dark elf and everyone else sensed it, and waited with an almost palpable sense of anxiousness for the last blow to come. However, the Sand King had wanted this fight to be one for the annals of history, and he was determined to die a warrior, so he assimilated the last of his Eco into himself, before charging at his opponent, his blade cocked back.

Jak was quick to create a second weapon, and met the ruler of the Wastelanders blow for blow, his hidden face twisted into a mask of concentration as he parried and riptosed the gunblade. While he had little doubt that the Armor of Mar would stand up to the weapon that Valthos was using, the Ascended Channeler and his alter ego were both very much aware that with his strength enhanced as it was, even if the armor stopped the attack, the force of the strike alone would be giving him a broken bone. While his enhanced healing factor would quickly take care of that, he would leave Jak open and vulnerable for a few critical seconds, something he did not desire in the slightest.

His foe thrust his blade forward, roaring and pulling the trigger of the weapon as he did so. Fortunately, the slug pinged off of the Virbrium armor plates with little more than a tiny dent to show for the hit, and the gunblade itself was forced down towards the ground as both of Jak's weapons caught it. The dark elf then thrust his left leg through the area between Kitetsu and his shadow blade, lashing out and catching Valthos square in the face. Both heard the crunching noise that came when the armored boot crushed the Sand King's nose in, but to his credit, the Spargian elf managed to remain on his feet and focused enough to yank his weapon back and make a vicious swipe at Jak's feet.

The Ascended Channeler leaped over the blade, and continued upward, flipping around as he came over Valthos' head. Normally, such a brash move would have resulted in the person in mid leap being cut down by his adversary, but as the Sand King brought his weapon around to try and perform such a maneuver, he found that Jak had both of his katanas waiting for him, and they locked around his weapon from opposite sides, keeping him from being able to perform any sort of action. With a seemingly impossible amount of flexibility, the dark elf twisted about in midair, and landed on his feet.

Valthos had no time to react as he saw Jak duck down and begin to spin around, his left foot stuck out in front of him. The sweep kick connected, and knocked the ruler of Spargus' feet out from underneath him. With a grunt, the Wastelander crashed to the ground, and he knew that the match was over even as Kitetsu and its shadowy twin were knocking his blade away and being placed against his throat.

The crowd was deathly quiet, knowing what was to come next.

"I have lost." Valthos growled in a tone that was so quiet only Jak could hear him. "Just make it quick, that's all I ask for."

"What do you mean?" Jak inquired in a similar volume, cocking his head quietly.

"Finish the job, exile." He breathed from his prone position. "Kill me and take my place."

'**_What?' _**Kage roared from within the dark elf's mind, his hellfire eyes bulging outwards as both he and his host realized what was being asked of them.

"Why do you hesitate?" the Sand King growled, clenching a fist in anger. "Do you wish to humiliate me further, Jak? Is the torment that I suffer every day that I live not enough?" he looked up into that emotionless visor that the Ascended Channeler wore. "End my pain, I beg you."

"You wanted me to do this, didn't you." Jak snarled quietly, anger and confusion rising within him as he realized that he'd deliberately been placed in this position.

"Yes, exile, I planned this to happen. I think I've known ever since we found you in the desert, those months ago, that you would be the right person for the job." He paused, and the Ascended Channeler knew that he was smiling behind his cloth facemask. "You are a leader, whether you believe it or not. You have what it takes. You are strong, brave, cunning, and I've come to understand that you have the most importantly quality of all: you care about those around you."

"I won't kill a man who saved my life." The dark elf said, removing his blades from Valthos' throat, but still keeping a tight grip upon him. "It's not right."

"This has always been our way, Jak." Valthos said, his tone calm, one of a man who was ready to die. "A king grows old, and he challenges the person he wants as his successor to a battle."

'**_I think it is time for the local law code to have some revisions.' _**Kage snarled, his honor code screaming about just how wrong this situation was.

It was a remark that Jak would give voice to a moment later.

Murmuring was beginning to break out up in the stands as the Wastelanders whispered amongst themselves, unsure of what was going on and what to make of it. Keira held her breath, praying with all with soul that her husband didn't go through with this. Unknown to her, Sig was doing the exact same thing, pleading to any celestial being with a conscience that Jak didn't do what the law of Spargus demanded that he do.

After all, he knew the true identities of both people down there, and he could think of no greater tragedy that could befall either of his friends should the killing blow fall.

Daxter was biting his nails again, unsure of what would happen. He felt that Jak wouldn't go through with this, as he had known the dark elf since childhood, and knew that even during his darkest moments, that he wasn't a cold blooded killer. On the other hand, Valthos had just attacked and tried to kill him…

"You're still the king, Valthos." Jak said, dispelling the shadow blade in his left hand a taking a few steps back away from the prone elf. "I'm not a leader, and I don't intend to stay out here one second more than I have to. I'm needed elsewhere."

"And what of my people?" the Sand King retorted, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Would you leave them alone, leaderless? I have been bested; they will no longer follow me even if I did desire to lead them!" He looked up into the dark elf's visor once again, his eyes, which looked so old and weary all of a sudden, pleading with him. "Release me from this torment, I'm begging you."

There was a pause, and Kitetsu was raised upward for a second. The Wastelanders in the arena held their breath, expecting the end to come. However, they were in for a shock, when the dark elf suddenly flipped the weapon around and sheathed it, before turning his back to his defeated adversary.

'**_I cannot help but wonder, _**Kage mused to within Jak's mind, **_'why he would put himself in such a position. Can people truly become so weighed down by their sorrows that death is what they seek?' _**

'_Yeah, we can, Kage.' _His host responded as he continued to walk away, paying no heed to the gasps and roars of the crowd as this unprecedented event took place. _'I suppose after these years of being by himself, he just wants to be with his family again…'_

Up in the crowds, amongst the confused Wastelanders, there were three individuals who breathed heartfelt sighs of relief at the choice that the dark elf had taken.

* * *

Daxter upon his shoulder, Jak made his way through the tunnels underneath Spargus, lost in thought. Thus, he was very much surprised when a familiar voice called him out of his thoughts and back to reality.

"Hello, chili peppers." Sig said to them, waving slightly as he leaned against one of the rock walls.

"Sig, what are you doing here?" Jak asked, startled and a little confused.

"Oh, I was in the neighborhood, figured I'd drop by and say hello." He replied with a smile, before it quickly faded from his face as he stepped up to the dark elf and placed his hand upon the shoulder that was not occupied by a certain orange ottsel. "I want to thank you for what you did out there in the arena, sparing Valthos' life." He told him, his voice somber and sincere.

"How can you call yourself civilized when you have a practice like that?" Daxter remarked, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

"It's always been the way we get ruler." Sig replied with a shrug, before lowering both his voice and his head. "Still, I've always wondered if we haven't been just a little too stuck in our ways."

There was a moment of silence then, in which all three regarded each other, before the burly Wastelander straightened back up and turned around.

"Oh yeah, I brought a little something from Haven with me that you guys might want to see." He remarked, a smile upon his features once again.

"What do you mean?" Daxter asked, scathing underneath his pilot goggles.

"Just a little someone who's been wanting to lay eyes on you again for a long time." Sig responded with a tone that indicated he was part of an inside joke.

Jak was about to tell the enforcer to stop playing games, when something he would never have expected occurred. From around a far corner stepped another elf. Though armored covered the person, the aqua colored hair and the cherubic smile gave the person's identity away in an instant.

Daxter's eyes bulged outward, and he suddenly found himself caught between two bodies as Jak and Keira shared a bone crushing embrace between themselves.

Sig simply smiled once more, happy to see the two soul mates reunited, and he saw his adoptive sister staring out of the corner of his eye, watching the unfolding event with keen interest.

For nearly a minute, the two elves merely held each other in their arms, holding each other close as if they feared that if something should part them, that they would never again see each other.

After all, Count Veger had done his damndest to try and make that the case.

When they finally pulled away from each other, Jak was quick to remove his helmet and stare into the eyes of his wife, noting how her own emerald orbs seem to glow with a light that was all their own now. Without a care in the world for who might have been watching or what those people might have thought, they leaned in close once more, and shared a soft and passionate kiss.

Indeed, it did have an effect upon one person who was present, though watching from a fairly discreet distance. Behind her facial tattoos, Seem felt her skin heat up as another wave of shame came over her. She finally felt that she was beginning to see the true nature of the exiled elf as she watched the two soul mates hold each other close and reaffirm how much they loved each other.

He was no monster, he was simply different, just as Sig had told her. Then there were also his actions in the arena. Never before had she observed a single Wastelander show mercy to an enemy before, regardless of the circumstances. Jak had just set a precedent that she would never have thought possible out here in this place, and his dark nature only drove the point home even more.

"I see Sig wasn't kidding when he said you'd found something pretty nifty." Keira said, a note of musical laughter present within her voice as she finally broke away from the kiss she had been sharing with Jak.

"Tarath gave it to me." The dark elf told her, a suddenly distant look in his eyes as he thought about the Precursor warrior. He then looked over to Sig, and with a genuine smile upon his face, nodded his head towards the burly Wastelander. "Thank you, Sig, you don't know how much this means to us."

"Don't be all like that, cherry." the enforcer responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I figured you needed some news from home, and she seemed like the right person to deliver it."

"What's going on?" Jak asked Keira, suddenly very concerned over the fate of his home city.

"Things have gotten really bad." she stated with a shake of her head. "Veger had us launch an attack on the Industrial District and the West Side that turned into catastrophic ambushes." She paused, trying to sum the disaster up as best she could. "Torn, Jinx, and Tess are pinned down with about five or six thousand soldiers in the Harbor Sector, and I don't know what happened in the other places, because someone or something initiated a Lockdown and that put us on the fritz with Ashelin and the others back at command."

"Things are that bad?" Daxter asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Let me put it to you this way," the aqua haired elf responded. "I really don't think that there would be much objection to Jak coming back right now."

There was a moment of stunned silence as the ottsel and the Ascended Channeler tried to wrap their minds around what Keira had just told them.

'**_The situation must truly be grave if that is the case.' _**Kage responded, his tone matching the news that they had just been given.

"Come on," Jak told her as he walked off. "I've got a little place that the Wastelanders have been kind enough to give me, we'll talk about it there."

"Just as well." Keira told her soul mate. "There's something that I've got to show you later, and I'd rather not do it right out here in the middle of a tunnel."

"You cherries just have fun," Sig told the two of them, before placing his index and middle fingers against his forehead and beginning to take his leave, "as for me, I've got to have a chat with a certain somebody, so I'll catch you later."

With that, the elves went their separate ways, while Seem was left to ponder what she had just seen.

* * *

Sig grumbled as he loaded up the Gila Stomper. As luck would have it, Valthos had grabbed some supplies and got the heck out of dodge, so to speak. However, though his old friend had taken a Sidewinder, Sig felt confident that he could catch up after a few hours. Besides, thus far, the desert had been pretty calm, and a Sidewinder would leave a trail that he would be able to follow with relative ease.

Thus he quickly left the city behind, determined to help one of his oldest friends.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, going to put a stop to it right there, and I will once again apologize for the hackneyed 'father and son duel' that just happened. My problem was I couldn't think of a logical way to get Sig down in the arena so quickly (and be able to pull it off very well) considering that Sig would likely protest considering that he knows who Jak really is. Also, one thing bugged me throughout the whole of Jak 3, and that was that you never get to see Damas fight. As such, I hope that I was able to do the Sand King justice.

Also, I apologize if Sig was OOC in this chapter, as I fear I might have made him so (fidgets nervously) and as for Seem's past, she will explain herself to Jak and company in a few chapters, so I am sorry for just leaving it hanging there like that.

That said, I have to go, as my parents are calling me, and they are using my middle name, which is never a good thing.

So in closing, if you have any comments, constructive criticism, ideas, or things of that nature, please let me know, and be sure to have a great week, and I'll see you here next time.


	15. Mitsukai Koushin

Hello to you all once again, and I hope that you day and week have been okay thus far.

I am not really sure how well I managed to pull this chapter off, as I can't help but feel as though I've screwed up the romance once again…not to mention I fear that I might be going to fast…

Also, several of you have expressed concerns for Damas, and I want to lay those to rest. Do not worry, the Sand King is going to live in this version, and shall not die as long as I am writing the story. Also, I thin I answered everyone's question who left me an e-mail address or a reply link, but if I have missed you, please let me know, and if you have a question, please leave me an e-mail address so I can respond, thank you (bows)

I also want to thank all of you who took the time to review, as I know there are probably better things that you could be doing with your time, and for all of you who read but did not review, I sincerely hope that you have found this tale to be worth your time.

Once again, special thanks goes out to **animedragongirl **for proofreading this work and spotting a few train wrecking sentences that I missed. She also thought up the title which means "angel rise" when translated.

Lawyers: if you haven't figured this out by now, head back to college and get a real job, I do not own anything save that I have created.

That said, here is the next chapter.

* * *

&

* * *

Mitsukai Koushin

Though the interior of the room was dark, his alien eyes were still able to observe every detail of the beautiful elven female that lay in his arms, sleeping peacefully and undisturbed by the problems of the waking world. A smile came over him as he gently ran a hand through Keira's aqua hair, his soul feeling more at peace than it had in a very long time as he held his wife close. He leaned in a little closer, and placed a kiss upon her head, inhaling her scent while he was at it.

When they had arrived back at his place, she had told him and Daxter of the situation in Haven, and even as he thought back to what she had said, he felt anger rise inside of him at the thought of so many who had been sent to their deaths by a man who obviously didn't have a clue what he was doing.

However, his anger had been nothing compared to the righteous fury that Kage had felt at learning of that grim news. Indeed, the Dark Eco demon nearly manifested himself, so great was anger boiling in his blood.

Then he had learned of her own ordeal, complete with a demonstration, and after he and Daxter had managed to put their eyes back into their sockets and get over the shock of witnessing her transform, they had tried several experimental procedures to determine if she truly was what they were thought she was. Some, Jak had been more than a little reluctant to perform (such as seeing if her blood was now infused with Light Eco) but his soul mate had been adamant.

Upon confirming their little hypothesis, Daxter had promptly made a wisecrack about opposites attracting, and then decided that it would perhaps be best if he took his leave, as he was fairly certain that after being away from each other for so long, the two elves would want some time to themselves. He said he was heading off to bug the leaper lizards, and that he'd be back later, and had headed out, leaving the two soul mates alone.

That had been last nigh; now morning was fast approaching, a faint shade of violet becoming visible through the one window of the house they were in. He had awoken early, and, doing his best to ignore Daxter's snoring, let his thoughts drift back to Keira. The aqua haired elf was one of a kind and he knew it, and thanked his lucky stars that she'd been willing to put up with him for so long. She was smart, and had put that knowledge to use to make everything that had happened thus far possible. She was brave, facing down danger no matter what form it took.

She was also a very understanding individual, and it was that that the dark elf was the most grateful for. She had seen the demon that had shared his mind and soul, and she had not recoiled from it, as most no doubt would have under similar circumstances. Not to mention there was also the fact that, fearing what Praxis and Errol might have done had they figured out her relationship to the largest thorn in their side, he'd done his best to drive her away from him when they'd met up after two years of being separated from each other.

Shifting forward slightly, he planted a gentle kiss upon her forehead, sending her a silent thank you for all that she had done for him.

* * *

It was about fifteen minutes later when Keira herself had started to wake up. It was hardly surprising, as someone of her industrious nature would normally be an early riser.

"Morning, Jak." She said softly, a smile gracing her features as her green eyes gazed upon him.

The two shared another kiss, and then got up and got themselves dressed, in a hurry to do so before Daxter could arise and make some comment about their activities the previous night. They then woke the ottsel, and began to try and formulate the best plan of action for dealing with Haven City's problems. They had little doubt that Count Veger and company would still try and enforce their 'exiled upon pain of death' decree if Jak were to return. However, having learned exactly how dire the situation was in his home town, and knowing that it was his responsibility as the descendent of Mar to set things right, the dark elf vowed that if the arrogant noble tried to stick his oversized nose into the situation this time, that he would lay him up in the hospital for a nice long time.

However, something happened that changed their plans.

Jak had just finished donning most of his ancestor's armor when a high pitched beeping sound echoed through the room that he, Keira, and Daxter were in.

"Jak, did you forget to turn off your alarm clock or something?" the ottsel asked, looking around for the source of the noise.

The Ascended Channeler said nothing, but his sensitive hearing helped him locate what was making the racket: his helmet. Curious, he walked towards the piece of headgear, and slipped it on. There was a hissing sound as the armor sealed itself, and he quickly turned on the HUD as the beeping noise continued. As the ever familiar displays blinked and flashed, he noticed something he hadn't seen before, a blinking dot of light off on the far right corner of the main visor. Unsure of what to make of the strange beacon, the dark elf looked at it, and blinked a couple of times.

Much to his surprise, another screen appeared in the upper corner of his visor, showing a black armored being that he knew quite well.

"Tarath?" he exclaimed, very much confused over this turn of events, which was to say nothing of the other two present who had no idea what was going on inside of the helmet.

"My apologies if I have awakened you this early, Jak," the Reaver said with a bow, and Jak noticed that there was activity occurring behind the black armored Ancient, "it occurred to me that I forgot to mention the exact capabilities of the comm. system built into your HUD, but I feel the need is rather pressing."

"What's wrong?" the dark elf asked, noting that there was a note of frustration present within the Praetor's voice.

"We are having some problems getting our equipment back up and running after five millennia of downtime." Tarath said, and on cue, there was a loud bang from somewhere behind him, and as the Reaver turned, a shower of sparks came from some area off to the side. "To cut to chase, we have sensed that another Ascended Channeler has awakened."

"Yeah, Keira, I know, she's here with me and Dax." Jak responded, nodding his head over in their direction, noting out of the side view of his HUD screens at their confusion, and he realized that they probably couldn't hear what Tarath was saying.

"That is this first bit of good news I have heard in days." The Precursor stated, and his descendant could feel the relief in his voice as he tipped his head skyward. "I need for you two to head towards the volcano in the center of the Wasteland and get to the research facility there. I'll meet you there, and bring you here, where we can begin training her."

"When do you need us to leave?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and cocking his head slightly to one side.

"As soon as you can," was the response he got, before the dark armored Ancient bowed before him, and killed the signal.

The screen faded from view, and the Ascended Channeler turned his attention back towards his wife and best friend, who were both looking at him funny.

"That was Tarath," he explained. "Seems the armor has a visual comm. system that he forgot to tell me about."

"Niiiiiiice." Keira remarked, drawing the statement out with a bit of a whistle, whishing she could get some time (once all the excitement had died down) to examine the helmet's inner workings.

"He said he wants to meet you as soon as he can." The dark elf continued, walking out of the room and grabbing a sac, before proceeding to gather up some supplies. "So grab anything that you might need…and then we're out of here."

The other two nodded and got what they needed, before they headed out of the adobe house and off towards the garage. With luck, Kleiver would never even notice what they'd taken until after they'd come back.

* * *

The trip across the wasteland took very little time, as Jak and Keira's twin Sidewinders tore across the desert, kicking up sand and dust behind them while they made their way towards the great volcano.

They reached the base of the fiery mountain, and with a pain filled growl, Jak let Kage take over, the orb of darkness manifesting itself around the Ascended Channeler as transformation took place. Very quickly, he instructed Keira to do the same, and the aqua haired elf took a deep breath to try and calm herself, before focusing upon her newfound powers. There was a flash of light, and when it cleared, she stood before Kage and Daxter, her entire nature changed.

While Keira had told them of her transformed state, this was the first time that the oni, his host, or their pint sized companion had seen her in such a state, and even the Dark Eco demon found himself amazed by the sight of Jak's soul mate. His slitted eyes widened as he took in the sight of her wings, seemingly so delicate, but quite obviously sturdy if they'd been able to hurl a Hunter Killer into a wall.

She in turned stared at him, noticing now how much more dangerous Kage appeared now that he was clad in the armor of her husband's ancestor, and she briefly entertained the mental image of how Count Veger would react to seeing the Dark Eco demon in this new fashion statement.

After all, Jak had been scary enough from what she had heard, as both he and Daxter had explained in great detail what had happened when they had last seen him, so what terror might Kage be able to inflict upon the arrogant noble?

The oni nodded silently to her, before grabbing hold of Daxter, and carefully cradling the foot and a half tall creature against his chest. Daxter didn't resist or protest, having no wish to test his own strength as they began their flight up towards the cone of the volcano.

Higher and higher they flew, their wings pumping as they left the ground behind. The flaming red peak of the volcano drew ever closer, becoming to them like the maw of a great beast or a dragon. As they drew nearer, they could feel the air around them become hotter and more sulfurous, until breathing once again became somewhat difficult, and the heated air they took in threatened to scorch their lungs. Still they pressed onward, knowing that Tarath would not have asked them to meet him here again unless it was of the utmost importance.

They crested the top of the mountain, and stopped, hovering in piece for a moment or two as Kage attempted to get his bearings.

'_There's the tunnel.' _Jak said from within his own mind, sticking his finger out in an instinctive gesture of pointing something out, while at the same time noting that it had been left open or some strange reason, and with the lights on to boot.

'**_I see it.' _**Kage responded in his usual tone of voice, before turning his attention to Keira.

"Keira," he said, yanking her back to reality, as she had apparently been staring around at the various lava basins and the like, her curious mind no doubt having a field day over what it was observing.

"Down there." The Dark Eco demon told her, pointing out the tunnel and angling himself towards it.

The angelic Channeler quickly took up position behind him, and the two of them made their way over to the other side of the fiery mountain, and both growling slightly in pain when a bit of superheated ash or a spark of fire would hit them.

Fortunately for all parties involved, they were able to cross the distance rather quickly, and they prepared to land.

Kage did so gracefully, his prehensile feet reaching out and grabbing the cliff, his talons digging into the rock. Keira however, having considerably less experience in this particular area of flight, hit the ground too fast, and lacking the Dark Eco demon's talons to assist with traction, would have found herself face first on the ground were it not for the armored hand that grabbed her.

"Flying is easy," the oni explained as she got her balance back, " but it is landing that is the tricky part."

"You seem to do it easily enough." the light aligned Channeler shot back.

"I've had practice." Kage responded with a shrug. "You simply need time to work on it, that is all."

"If you two are done yapping," Daxter remarked, the skin under his fur a little pale from the trip into this hell, "Darth Vader's waiting for us, and if I remember correctly, that little science lab of his has air conditioning. So let's get out of the heat, all right?"

Kage snorted while Keira laughed at the ottsel's antics, but both still had to agree that there was quite a bit of logic behind his reasoning, and so they began to trek down the tunnel.

Once they were a fairly good distance inside, Kage decided it would be best to let his host take back over their mutual shell, and he paused, groaning as his wings and tail entered back into their body, while talons retracted into fingernails and the oni's legs reverted back to more humanoid ones.

The other Ascended Channeler saw this, and decided that she would probably be better off back in her normal form as well. By this time, Jak was fully in control again, and it was his turn to watch his soul mate's counter transformation.

The blue white aura faded from around her, and the strange, tendril like wings retracted back into her shoulder region. She also regained her normal complexion, rather than the strange, almost translucent color that her skin had been before, though Jak had noticed the night before that she was paler than usual, and it had worried him quite a bit. However, she had simply shrugged it off, saying that most of the soldiers in the Harbor Sector had the same problem, as just about every waking moment was spent in preparation for the next attacks by either the Death Bots or the Metal Heads, which meant you were always in full battle gear.

This troubled the dark elf all the more, and he was actually beginning to fear for the future of his hometown, something he hadn't done since he and his inner demon had sent Kor on a one way trip to the hereafter.

It reached the point where he had honestly decided that exiled or not, he was heading back as soon as this little meeting with Tarath was over with.

His people needed him.

By this point in time, they had resumed walking, and had reached the end of the tunnel. As before, the strange light elevator was waiting for them, and Keira's eyes bulged outward as she stared at it, the gears of her mind trying to process what she was seeing.

'**_She's going to have a field day when we get down to the bottom.' _**Kage remarked with a slight chuckle, a fang revealing smile upon his muzzle.

'_You're not kidding.' _The dark elf replied mentally, knowing that his wife's analytical mind was no doubt already trying to formulate theories and hypotheses as to how this mysterious transport device might work.

They stepped onto the elevator, with Daxter still being a little cautious just in case the light or whatever it was that held them up abruptly decided that it wanted to go on strike. Jak, meanwhile, walked over to the control panel that was on the elevator, and then pressed the holographic button that read for the armory. There was a whirring sound, and then the elevator began to zoom down into the depths of the facility.

* * *

As soon as they arrived at the floor, they saw the object of their search. Praetor Tarath Shien had his back to them, as he was at what appeared to be a computerized work station, his hands flying over a keyboard of some sort while he carried on a conversation with another Precursor that was on a viewing screen above his head.

"You're sure that those Stingers that we located are operational?" the dark armored Ancient inquired to the other, who was clad in a suit of royal blue armor that all three noticed had similar markings on it to the Reaver's.

"Not yet, Tarath," the other Precursor replied, shaking her head, as the voice gave away its gender, "but we're testing a couple of them on in the training track right now, and Sentinel's running diagnostics on some of the more questionable ones. So far, they're holding up, but we haven't tried them on full throttle just yet, and we also haven't tried out the weapon systems."

"Try to hurry up on that Ariki," the Praetor responded in a grave tone of voice, "and tell Lazaric that he needs to step up the recon missions once he's finished training the rawer soldiers today, we need to locate all the vehicles that we can." He paused, and shook his head. "After all, twenty Stingers are not going to help us against the war machine that Kerrog is bringing with him."

"You're preaching to the choir, Tarath." The blue armored warrior responded, crossing her arms over her chest. "After all, I'm the one who has to lead the cavalry into the fight, and I'd feel far better having access to four or five hundred, a real military number, rather than a glorified scouting force." She looked up at him then and did a double take. "I'd better let you go, you're company seems to have arrived."

"I'll see you soon, Ariki." The Reaver responded, before switching off the screen and turning around to face the trio that had come off of the elevator.

"Who was that?" Jak inquired, cocking his head as the dark armored Ancient looked at them.

"Ariki Crystala." He told his descendent, a faint, if unseen smile upon his scarred and mutilated face. "She is a fellow Praetor…actually, the only one left besides myself, and is a Dragoon by nature."

"A what?" Keira inquired, raising an eyebrow at the Reaver.

"A Dragoon is a warrior whose nature aligns them with Blue Eco." The Praetor began to explain, turning around and motioning for them to follow him as he continued. "They are fast and agile soldiers, who compose the light infantry of our ranks, and their incredible reflexes also make them superior pilots. In addition to those skills, they also have a mastery of telekinesis, and I have seen some of them pick up quarter ton objects and throw them with a simple gesture." He then looked over his shoulder, his eyes locking onto the aqua haired elf of the group. "I do not suppose you truly understand what is happening here, do you?"

"Aside from the fact that something has the Metal Heads all riled up, not really." was the response that he got from her.

"The Hora-quan are mustering because their true masters have called them to battle once again." Tarath told her, before launching into the tale of what exactly was about to happen to Gaia.

* * *

"My gods…" was all Keira could say at first, her mind overwhelmed by what she had just learned. "You wiped each other out over this little terraforming deal?"

"Yes." Tarath responded with a bitter chuckle, placing a hand against the visor of his helmet. "Over one single point, my people turned upon each other, and because of that issue, we might have doomed this world."

"There's just one thing that I don't understand." She said, shaking her head and frowning. "If you exiled the Fallen Ones, why haven't they simply stopped and terraformed another world? What's so important about coming back here?"

"I believe that they want vengeance for what we did to them." Was what the dark armored Ancient told her as they entered a circular room. "But there is another reason they are coming back as well, one far more important than that."

"Which would be, Darthy?" Daxter inquired, giving the Precursor a look.

"They have not terraformed any other worlds because they do not know how to." He told them.

The reactions were pretty much the same, a look of baffled confusion upon the faces of all three of the others present, followed by facial expressions one would normally associate with someone wishing to know the details right there and then.

"The research team that had initially been working upon the project split into two different factions upon the failure of the preliminary trial, and we polarized around these two. However, we knew the peril that Gaia was in as long as the technicians, scientists, and engineers who had insisted that we continue with the terraformation project lived, and it was decided that something should be done about them." Tarath said, pausing ominously. "When we received credible intelligence of their whereabouts, an elite strike force was dispatched to deal with the problem." He then flicked his right wrist, bringing his scythe like warp blade into its attack position. "With one swift stroke, we killed them all, and the knowledge that they carried."

'**_Yet still the question remains unanswered in its entirety.' _**Kage muttered, scratching his chin, something that his host readily agreed with.

"But that still doesn't explain why they are coming back here." Jak said, wondering if there was something that the dark armored Ancient had yet to tell them about the situation.

"They are coming back here because we still have the information stored on an easy access computer terminal back in our central base of operations." The Precursor warrior said, leaning back against one of the walls of the room, his shoulders slumped as if he suddenly felt very tired.

"What?" Daxter screeched, his eyes becoming about the size of a dinner plate, before he leapt to the ground, and standing up to his full height, walked over to the Reaver, looking up at him. "Let me get this straight, tall, dark and scary. You mean to tell us that this info that you have, which could be used to destroy this planet, is still around, and on top of that you have it stashed on a computer that any moron in the world can access?" he paused, before hopping up and down. "Are you out of your freaking minds?"

"The information that the files contained were so dangerous that we did not dare _to_ destroy them." Tarath responded, shaking his head, before proceeding to explain what he meant. "Think about it, Daxter, we stumbled across that process entirely by accident, and we nearly destroyed the entire planet with it. Think if you will, what might happen if we did destroy those files, and another race, say the elves, discovered the process…what would happen then?"

"History repeating itself?" Jak said with a somber tone.

"Exactly!" The dark armored Ancient said with a snap of his fingers. "As it is, we have left them to where your kind would easily be able to see them if and when they discovered our archives… along with a very hefty and graphic warning of what would happen if they were to attempt to reconstruct the experiment.

'**_Rather hard to argue with that logic…' _**Kage mused to himself.

'_Yeah, that's true.' _His host concurred.

"If you will follow me," the Precursian warrior said, "there is somewhere we have to be, and I think we have delayed enough."

There was something in his tone, something almost undetectable, that all three of the others noticed, a note of pain, that made them wonder if there might have been a little more to the story than they had been told. However, they remained silent, feeling that they had pressed the Praetor hard enough over the past half an hour or so.

They entered the next room, and to there surprise, within it lay a Precursian warp portal, already activated and waiting to take them to parts unknown.

"Where does that go?" Keira asked, curiosity present in her voice.

"To a military base that we have begun to bring back into service." Tarath told her, crossing over and double checking the coordinates for the transportation device. "I hope you are ready Keira, because you are about to receive a crash course in Precursor battle tactics."

Without another word, he stepped through, and after hesitating for just a second, the trio followed him into the rippling depths of the warp portal.

The feelings and sensations that they felt while passing through it was something else altogether. One moment, they felt as if they were being hurled around inside of a strange vortex, while the very next they felt as if they were plunging down a rollercoaster, their stomachs rising up into their throats. Even time seemed unusual, for when they came tumbling out of the device, they had absolutely no idea how long they had been inside of it.

However, one thing was certain; their landings were less than graceful, and they came down in a heap, groaning and shifting about as they tried to pick themselves back up. As they tried to do so, a pair of hands reached down and helped the two elves up, freeing Daxter at the same time. As the ottsel struggled to pry himself off of the ground, both of his friends looked up to find that Tarath and the Precursor known as Ariki, if the helmet was accurate, helping them to their feet.

"I forgot to warn you that trips through warp portals can be unsettling at times, especially the first few." Tarath muttered, his tone apologetic. "In time, you will get used to it."

"But for right now, we have to get you ready." Ariki said, stepping back away from the trio, and Keira suddenly had the distinct feeling that she was being given a once over by the blue armored warrior.

"I'm still not exactly sure what's going on, though." The aqua haired elf said, scratching her head in puzzlement. "I mean, I know that I'm an Ascended Channeler, but I'm not really sure how…" she trailed off, as she noticed a visible slump come over Tarath, and the Reaver abruptly bowed his head.

"You are an Ascended Channeler by chance," he said, his voice only a hair above a whisper, "and your elemental nature is aligned with that of light due to your ancestry." He paused again, and then looked her straight in the eye. "Though I do not know your immediate background, I will tell you that you are descended from the bloodline of Phoenix Losstar."

That was about as far as he got before Keira's look of disbelief stopped him.

"It was his tomb that I fell into…" she said, before giving a brief synopsis of what had caused her powers to awaken.

"How ironic," Tarath murmured, his voice distance, "that in death, he should provide the means of salvation for one of his descendents." He then chuckled bitterly for a moment. "He truly lived up to his name."

"Were you and him good friends?" she inquired, thinking back to the inscription upon the tomb.

"I…" he began, before he paused, the pain overwhelming him.

"They were adoptive siblings." Ariki said, her tone grave and laced with sorrow.

The elves and ottsel remained silent, but inwardly, they finally felt as though they were beginning to understand why the Reaver always seemed to be so haunted. However, they did not dwell upon that for long, as while there was nothing that they could do for the dead, there were still people living who might be saved by their actions, and saving people was certainly not something that they would be able to do while just standing around.

The two precursors motioned for the trio to follow them, and they proceeded to head deeper into the military complex.

Along the way, they encountered sights that all three knew they would never forget. In one chamber, a massive, circular type track that must have been a mile across in every direction, they saw armored workers scurrying around strange devices, that reminded them a lot of the hover bikes that the Freedom Guard used, but there shape was something else.

They were larger and looked to be more heavily armored than the ones that were used by elven forces, and their basic shape was different as well. While the bikes used by the elves might have been cylindrical and used a pair of small jet thrusters to propel itself through the air at speeds approaching a maximum of about one hundred and twenty miles per hour, these ones had twin thrusters that took up almost the entire back of the bike, and four large tail fins, protruding from both the sides and the upper portion of the back region, no doubt assisted with high speed maneuverings. The front end of the vehicle was also more angular than the ones in Haven, having an almost trapezoidal front end that sloped down to a sharp point. There was what appeared to be an armored windshield at the top as well, upon which symbols glowed and flashed. They also noticed what was underneath the front end: a pair of rather nasty looking blaster type weapons, and mounted upon the sides of the back were a pair of what appeared to be some kind of missile.

Even as they watched, one of the Dragoons made what appeared to be a final tweak to one of the Stingers, and then leapt onto the seat. The soldier pressed a few buttons, and Jak, Daxter, and Keira watched as the thrusters on the end began to glow a deep blue violet color.

"Initiating full spectrum evaluation test." the soldier said, the voice revealing it to be male.

A high pitched whining noise came from the Stinger, and in the blink of an eye, the hover bike shot off down the larger circular track that it was on. The trio's eyes bulged as they saw the bike zoom around the track, appearing to be little more than a blur. They also noticed that this vehicle was apparently incapable of flight, as it was only about a foot or two off of the ground at any particular time.

It blasted out of sight, but they noticed that there were cameras recording the progress of the Stinger and keeping it in view for those who were observing it.

Abruptly, pillars shot up in front of the bike, and the trio of outsiders feared a crash, but the pilot, with reflexes they had only seen in the case of a certain Ascended Channeler, expertly maneuvered out of the way, weaving in and out between the columns, and by some means they did not yet know at the time, leaping over a few that shot out in a horizontal manner.

The pilot's trip through that particular obstacle course lasted no more than six seconds, and he then entered a curve that led out to a straightaway. This time, what appeared to be targets popped up in front of the driver, and the Precursian soldier grabbed what appeared to be triggers set into the handlebars of the Stinger.

Flashes of yellow came from underneath the bike, as the Eco bolts streaked towards the targets, ripping them apart when they connected. However, the pilot didn't manage a perfect score, as he missed a pair of them. But what happened after that caused three sets of jaws, and a forth belonging to a certain Dark Eco demon, to all but unhinge themselves. As the pilot streaked towards the last two targets, he reached back, pulling a large, double bladed staff off of his back, before shifting the bike over towards the closest one. He started to spin the weapon in his right hand, before slamming it into the first target, shredding it as he passed. Then, with a single, flawlessly smooth maneuver, he readjusted his grip upon the weapon, to where he held it with his right hand closer to one of the blades, similar to how one would grip a lance. With a battle roar, he reached out and ran the last one through, actually taking it along for the ride for a few seconds, before he ripped it off of his weapon by swinging it out in a wide arc.

'**_Well, I'm impressed.' _**Kage muttered in a tone of awe in his voice as the pilot brought his craft back to the starting line.

'_You're not the only one.' _was the response that he got from his host.

"Were those the Stingers that you were talking about?" Keira inquired, and not surprisingly, there was a tone of longing in her voice, as if she would love nothing more than to rush down to that track and begin to examine the inner workings and secrets of those machines.

"Yes." Ariki told them as they resumed their little trek. "They are used by the Dragoons as scouting or fast attack craft. In battle we often use them as a cavalry force, and they can tear through most infantry soldiers, as even the best warrior is hard pressed to doge something flying at you at five hundred miles per hour." She then paused and added in a slightly more somber tone of voice. "However, as we discovered during the Kinslayer War, as we refer to that dark period of our history, they are vulnerable to attacks from aerial units such as Reavers and Templars."

After that, they fell silent for a time, until they passed another large chamber, this one containing various different Precursor soldiers arranged at even intervals. Some were Dragoons, others wore red, yellow, green, and white armor, while a few obsidian colored Reavers could be seen. All appeared to be running through some sort of combat drill, as orders were being barked out by other warriors standing in front of them. What surprised the trio the most though was the fact that their hair for the most part wasn't dreadlocked like the two Praetors or their instructors, and for those few who did have their hair bound like that, they noticed that it was considerably shorter in length.

"The newest additions to our ranks." Tarath said, a bitter tone to his voice before looking down to Jak and Daxter. "These are the older children that survived the Kinslayer War and the Hora-quan attacks, ranging between twelve to fifteen years of age."

If the dark armored Ancient had announced that he was planning to activate a thermonuclear device, he could not have caused more surprise amongst the outsiders.

"Mind running that by us again, Vader?" Daxter exclaimed, his voice nearly a screech.

"I know what you are thinking, and we do not like it any more than you do," Ariki said, her tone full of quiet anger, "but our veterans are less than two thousand strong, and would never be able to stand up to the enemy."

"But to send children out to fight?" Keira said, a look of absolute shock upon her face. "How do you justify that?"

"Because if we do not, we will never triumph this battle." Tarath said, his fists clenched in rage at the thought of what had to be done. "And if we lose this conflict, Gaia, and countless others worlds will pay the price." He paused then, and lowered his head to face the ground. "After all, we have placed the world in this jeopardy, and it is only fitting that we take the responsibility for protecting her from this threat. We owe this planet a debt, a debt that we will have to repay with blood."

With that, he fell silent, before turning and walking further down the corridor.

'**_Dark times are coming,' _**Kage muttered to himself, despair in his voice, **_'whatever the outcome, this war will have no winners.' _**

Jak said nothing, but he silently agreed with his alter ego as he looked back upon the parade ground, where the Precursian children still trained themselves for the inevitable time when they would charge onto the field of battle, and he shook his head at the thought of beings so young, so full of potential, lying in pools of their own blood.

Keira, meanwhile, had edged closer to Ariki, and with a tap on her shoulder to get her attention whispered something to her.

"What was Phoenix like?" she asked, eager to know more about the warrior that had been her ancestor.

"Phoenix was good soldier and comrade." Tarath spoke up, a note of longing in his voice, and Keira immediately felt a shameful heat creep up her face for trying to keep him out of the conversation. "He wasn't as good at individual combat as I was, but he had a far greater grasp of strategic maneuvers and overall troop command." He paused and shook his head while he continued to walk. "He was cool and in control no matter the situation, and he had a soul that was rather gentle. He also possessed a rare gift that he only discovered around his eighteenth birthday."

"Which was?" the angelic Channeler prompted.

"He was a visionary, a seer." Ariki said, looking down at the girl. "He could see glimpses of the future…of a possible future, rather."

"What happened to him?" Jak inquired, speaking up from the back of the group.

"He fell defending a military installation from Hora-quan attack," the Reaver said. "We were able to save the base, but our reinforcements did not get there in time to save him and his troops, and almost two hundred souls died that day."

With that bit of depressing knowledge, the group fell silent once again as they continued deeper into the compound.

* * *

It was about fifteen minutes later when they arrived at their final destination. They came into a room, and the first thing that they noticed was a pair of Ancient warriors standing around what appeared to be yet another suit of armor. It was on a mannequin, and the three outsiders took to giving it a once over.

In many ways, it seemed to be very similar to Mar's Armor, save for a few key differences. First off, the primary color scheme was that of a shinning whitish-argent, similar to the hue of the standard issue armor that Jak had seen back in the armory of the research station, but far brighter and with a greater amount of luster to it than the norm. Also, just as his armor had flashes and highlights of purple upon its Vibrium surface, so too did this one possess such markings in blue. The visor was also the same azure color, and Jak and Kage held little doubt that the interior makeup and systems found within it would be identical to his own. Keira meanwhile, took a few steps towards the magnificent suit, in awe as she stared at it, for even though she didn't have a full grasp of what the suit was capable of doing, she knew that it was quality of a level that she had never seen before, and that this was a masterpiece.

Perfectly on cue, Tarath broke into an explanation of the equipment as he and Ariki dismissed the other two warriors and proceeded to help Keira to remove her Katarn gear and don this new armor.

When they were finished, Jak, Daxter, and Kage all agreed that it did indeed seem appropriate for her to be wearing, and she now looked almost like a twin to the dark elf who was already encased in Precursor made gear, right down to the pulsing veins of blue light that mirrored the violet ones of Mar's Armor and the silvery war braids that came off of the back.

"Looks good on you, Kier." Jak remarked, smiling behind his own helmet as he gazed upon his soul mate.

"We are not done yet." Tarath said, heading over to what appeared to almost be some sort of strange, glass covered tube. "We still need to complete her transformation and unlock the rest of her powers, then there is the matter of training her to use the weapon that was to accompany this armor."

"Wait a minute," the dark elf interrupted, holding out a hand, "just what are you talking about?"

"This right here," Ariki stated, gesturing over to the tube with her thumb, "is a machine that we Precursors use to infuse massive amounts of Eco into our soldiers before sending them into battle. Tweaked slightly, it would be able to infuse an Ascended Channeler with enough of their elementally aligned Eco to unlock the rest of their abilities."

Jak went to make a remark, but Tarath beat him to the punch.

"I realize your concern," he said, extending a hand in a gesture of understanding, "but I assure you that we have been doing this for some time, and we know what we are doing. You soul mate will not even find this process to be uncomfortable."

Reluctantly, the Ascended Channeler allowed for Keira to be led into the machine, and he knew that she was giving him a reassuring smile, even though he could not see her angelic face. He crossed his arms, still not pleased with the idea of such exposure, as the memories of what had happened to himself at the hands of Errol were still very clear in his mind. Nonetheless, both he and his alter ego realized what was at stake, and knew that this would be necessary if they were to have any chance of succeeding in the long run.

However, he was still uneasy as the machine started up, though one would have been hard pressed to tell, as he had long ago learned to control his outward appearance and body language.

"How long is this gong to take?" he inquired, as the machine warmed up and a bright light filled it, forcing his visor to darken to compensate for the abrupt change.

"For a normal warrior, about two minutes." Tarath said, his eyes, real and cybernetic, narrowed behind his own dark helmet. "In this case, I am not entirely sure, but I suggest that you make yourself comfortable just in case it does wind up taking a while."

The dark elf remained silent after that, and far from making himself comfortable, began to pace back and forth, his hands clasped behind his back as he thought of his soul mate, worry, and a tad bit of curiosity filling his mind. He was filed with wonder about what this could mean, with his wife being what she apparently was, and he also couldn't help but ponder about what Veger's reaction to her might be, to say nothing of what her father would think.

Speaking of which, he'd been meaning to have a talk with the old Sage for some time now. There was a great deal of stuff he didn't know about his own people and time, and Samos, having apparently been born and spent a great deal of his life in Haven, might be able to fill him in on everything.

Off in a corner Daxter was filled with a great amount of anxiety as well, as Keira was one of his friends too, one of the few who had spared him in his childhood, one of those who had been kind enough not to torment him in his younger days. He shuddered to think of what might happen if something were to befall her now, besides the fact that Jak would likely go mad with grief. Also, his mind drifted and he thought about what Grandpa Green might be thinking right now, what sort of stress she might be going through, not knowing whether the girl he cherished so dearly was alive or dead.

For that matter, how many other parents might be thinking the same thing? Might be holding on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, their own son or daughter might just be trapped in the Lockdown, that they might still be alive after all. He shuddered at the thought of such things, of not knowing whether a beloved family member was alive or dead.

Tess was still stuck back in the Harbor Sector from his understanding, and his ears drooped as he thought of the possibilities. She and the others could be fighting for their lives this very instant, struggling to hold a vastly superior enemy force at bay, and there was not a thing in the world he could have done to help them, even if he was there.

Once again, he cursed his own inabilities, his own weakness. This sorrow must have had some sort of outward manifestation, for he was aware of a shadow passing overhead, and as he looked up, he beheld Tarath. The Reaver was staring down at him, and he cocked his masked head to one side as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Is something bothering you, Daxter?" the dark armored Ancient inquired.

"Just wishing I could be more like them." He muttered, gesturing to Jak, who was still pacing, and the machine that Keira was inside of.

"What do you mean?" the Praetor inquired, puzzlement in his voice.

"They both have awesome, army of one styled powers, or they are in the process of getting them." He said, leaning back against a wall and rubbing his forehead. "They both get fancy armor and nifty gadgets, and I don't have a thing that I can do to help them out…" he trailed off, bowing his head and staring at the floor.

The next thing he was aware of was the Reaver getting down on one knee and attempting to look him in the eye.

"But you do have something special." Tarath said, an unseen, bittersweet smile upon his face. "You have this." He pointed to the center of the ottsel's chest. "You follow them into the most grave of dangers without any armor, any weapons, or any powers, and that speaks volumes for your courage." He paused, lowering his own gaze. "I see you and Jak and Keira, and I see myself and Phoenix in our younger days…" _and Kerrog too, _he added silently. "I see a bond of friendship and family that cares not what dangers you may face…and that, Daxter, is a quality that is rare indeed, and is worth more than any vaunted Channeling abilities.

"Really?" the ottsel asked, not sure of the Reaver was pulling his leg or not.

"If there were more people such as yourself in this world," Tarath told him in a quiet tone, "then there might not be such a need for warriors like myself."

Upon hearing this, Daxter fell silent once again, contemplating what the Precursian warrior had told him.

* * *

Keira spent almost half an hour in the machine, her body slowly absorbing the concentrated Light Eco that was being pumped into the chamber. When her body had taken in all it could, the machine somehow sensed it and the flow of Eco ceased. The Ascended Channeler stepped out of the chamber, her stride a little unsteady, and she found herself having to grip the side of the machine to keep her balance.

"Are you alright?" Jak inquired, hurrying over to her, worried that something might not be right.

"Just a little woozy," she responded, looking up at him, and he could tell that she had a weary smile upon her face.

"It's understandable, considering what you just took in." Ariki stated. "Just relax for a few minutes, and I'll be right back with the next thing that you need."

With that, the Dragoon left the chamber, heading down a side door at a fairly rapid pace.

"Where's she going?" Keira asked as she sat down in a strange chair that was obviously designed for a creature larger than she was.

"To get your weapon." Was the response that she got from Tarath.

"Her weapon?" Daxter said, his voice incredulous.

"Did you really think that we would provide her with such armor and not give her an offensive device to back it up?" the Reaver inquired, answering the furry creature's question with one of his own. "As Jak carries Kitetsu, so shall his soul mate have a weapon of her own, one that is just as unique and powerful."

Silence fell over the group for a couple of minutes, before Ariki returned, carrying in her arms what was undoubtedly one of the most bizarre and unusual bladed weapons that Jak and the others had ever before seen.

It was about six feet in length, and was comprised primarily of a metal staff that reminded the dark elf of the dual staves that the Dragoons themselves carried. However, rather than having a blade on either end, this weapon possessed only one, though it was half again as large (when one accounted for the difference in weapon size) than the ones on the dual staves. Also, whereas those weapons bore straight blades, the one upon this strange melee instrument was curved, very much like a scimitar, though it did possess an almost claw like protrusion that went out straight for a couple of inches right above the main blade. In addition to that, there were blue glowing runes upon the length of the staff, which identified the weapon in a fashion very similar to Kitetsu. There was also a Light Eco Crystal set into the bottom of the weapon's shaft, glowing brightly like a star.

The blue armored Ancient presented the weapon to Keira, who reverently accepted it, her breath stolen away by the instrument, which was, like the dark katana that her soul mate carried, a work of art.

"I am honored." She said, her voice trembling as she felt the grip of the weapon, and even though she knew little about such melee instruments, she knew instinctively that this weapon was perfectly balanced.

"It is called Masamune," Tarath said, his tone serious, "and it is what you elves would call a naginata."

"Feel's like it was made for me…" Keira murmured.

"In a way, perhaps it was." The Reaver said, in a voice that was so quiet that no others could hear. He then raised the level of his voice to a normal tone. "Ariki will escort you to a holo-cron that we have set up for the training of the Dragoons, as your weapon is very similar in nature to theirs. Afterwards, she will spar with you until you begin to get a further understanding of your powers and those of Masamune's."

With that the group left the chamber, heading for a training room that wasn't too far away.

* * *

Meanwhile, far off in the desert, a large vehicle roared over a sand dune, coming down with a thunderous crash when gravity took hold of it again.

Sig, in the driver's seat, breathed a sigh of heartfelt relief when he saw what lay below. Valthos was there, sitting with his back to his Sidewinder, his gunblade in his lap. More importantly, his eyes were open and he himself was alert, as he had shifted his head towards the source of the racket when the Gila Stomper had cleared the dune.

So his buddy hadn't decided that it was time to check out of this life just yet. That knowledge brought a smile to his face, and he slowed his buggy down as he drew close, leaping out of the driver's seat when his vehicle came to a stop.

"What are you doing here, Sig?" Valthos inquired, his voice the epitome of world weary.

"I could ask you the same thing, Damas." The burly Wastelander responded, shaking his finger in a scolding sort of way. "What the hell were you thinking, challenging Jak like that?"

"Finding a better leader, my old friend." Was the Channeler's reply as he sighed and slumped his shoulders.

"Oh for the love of…" the enforcer groaned, slapping his right hand to his forehead. "Look, are you that eager to die?"

"I want to see my family again, Sig." Damas growled, a surprising amount of venom in his voice. "I want to hold Alicia in my arms again, I want to have Alex riding around on my shoulders like he used to before I sent us straight into hell." The former king of Haven City then began to sob, breaking down and weeping like a child. "I just want to be with them again, Sig, so can't you leave me alone to die in peace?"

"What makes you think they're both dead?" Sig said after a moment of pause.

That one sentence had the desired effect upon the Channeler, and he slowly looked up at Sig.

"What are you saying?" he asked, his breath coming in a short gasp.

Sig paused for a moment, pondering how he might say this. After all, the tale that he was about to tell would seem more along the lines of one of the legendary fables of old rather than actual fact. For a short time, he remained silent as he gathered his thoughts, and then decided that he should go with the straight truth.

* * *

The large Wastelander finished his tale, and noted that there was a glare in the eyes of his friend, and he had little doubt as to why.

"Do you take some sort of sadistic…" Damas began, before Sig cut him off.

"I know it sounds crazy, Damas," the armored elf said, shaking his head and holding up his arms, palms facing his friend, "hell, I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes, but it's the truth. Jak is your boy."

Flames still burning in his eyes, the former King of Haven City stared into Sig, his eyes reading the soul of his friend. For some time, he did this, until he realized that there was no lie in Sig, that the enforcer was telling him the truth, that the dark elf, the exile from Haven, the boy that he would have had kill him was his own flesh and blood.

Unable to say anything, the Channeler slid down to the ground, leaning back against his Sidewinder once again. He didn't know what to think, and he was torn over this startling revelation. On the one hand, he was overjoyed that his son still lived, that the child he had loved so dearly had not yet departed this mortal coil. On the other, he thought back, remembering the last time that he had seen Alex, just before leaving for the attack on the Metal Head Nest. He remembered the innocence that seemed to glow in the blue eyes of his child, and the angelic smile that always seemed to be upon his face, and of the voice he'd had, laced with merriment and cheerfulness.

Then he thought about Jak, his son now aged more than fifteen years. The once joyous and bright eyes were cold and distant, hardened by battle and death and pain, with cracks in the ice that made them up manifesting themselves only when he spoke of those dear to him. The voice was harsh as well, always coming out as something of a growl.

The child was gone, replaced by a warrior.

However, while he inwardly wept for what Sig had told him had happened to his boy, a part of his mind wondered if this was meant to happen some how, if providence had not intervened and put the child on the harsh road that had transformed him into the soldier that had struck down Kor, a being that even the Precursors themselves had fallen to.

His wind still whirring and trying to process all of the new information hat had just been given to it, he felt a strange sensation stirring from deep within himself. A sob racked his body and tears, from joy or sorrow, he could not tell, began to fall down his face.

Sig, ever the loyal friend, simply sat down next to Damas, and placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder, letting the king pour out all of the pent up emotions, sorrows, and self hatred that had consumed him for so long.

Maybe, just maybe, things were going to work out alright.

* * *

Night had fallen, and Kleiver was busy taking his turn upon the wall of Spargus.

Things had been a little chaotic of late, and no one really knew what to make of recent events, with Jak refusing to strike down Valthos and all that. For the moment, it left them in a very vulnerable position, no one was sure who was really in charge at the current moment.

He himself was rather confused. He was partially overjoyed that the man that he had come to consider among his friends had been spared, but on the other, something within his Wastelander spirit screamed about the violation of an ages old code.

He sighed and began to rub his temples hoping that this little crisis would pass soon enough.

However, his train of thought was suddenly knocked off the tracks by a strange, pulsing sound that he couldn't ever recall hearing, and a bright flash of light that he had seen out of the corner of his eye. He turned just in time to watch as a beam of yellow energy shot past a hundred or so feet to his right, where it slammed into one of the buildings that was built into the side of the cliff. The beam exploded, leaving a gapping, twenty foot hole where once there was rock and cement.

He stood stock still for a moment, the synapses of his brain trying to put two and two together. Then he snapped into action, and looked back to where the shot had come from. Another yellow glow made it readily easy to identify the source, and he felt his jaw drop in shock as he realized that it was coming from the middle of what appeared to be a small fleet of Marauder vehicles.

Years of dealing with these sort of raids made his next actions automatic, and he rushed over to an alarm button, before slamming his fist onto it, sounding a general quarters type alarm from klaxons built all over the city.

However, as he took a second look out over the enemy forces, ducking instinctively as another one of those yellow energy blasts shot overhead, he realized that this was no mere raiding force…and for the first time in many years, he felt fear for the future of his city and his people.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, stopping it there.

Yes…I know I am an evil spawn of a devil, so you can all stop glaring at me. (ducks a Haidoken spell)

Okay, once again, I apologize if the romance was crappy or if I am going to fast, so feel free to nail me on it.

To that end, if you have an idea, advice or constructive criticism, or even feel the need to flame, please don't hesitate to let me know.

Now, I must be off to bed, cause tomorrow's going to be a looooonnnnnggg day. So I bid you all good night, good day, and I hope that you have a great week.


	16. When An Age Comes Crashing Down

Greetings to you all once again. Updating a little early this week, as tomorrow will find me at Tallahassee for a regional academic bowl competition.

If I missed anyone with review replies, please let me know, and I shall answer your question. For those of you who did not review, I hope you have found this story worthy of your time.

Just to let you people know, it'll be a little bit before we get back to Spargus (dodges rotten fruit, arrows, throwing axes, etc.) but for the moment, I'm going to slip in another Tarath flash back in an attempt to get the backstory down and flesh out the bad guys a little more.

Lawyers: I don't own anything but my own creations, so stop calling me!

That said, here is chapter sixteen

* * *

&

* * *

When an Age comes Crashing Down.

The dark armored warrior waved as the elves departed, once more heading for the desert sanctuary of Spargus, a faint smile upon his face as he watched them fly away, becoming mere specks in the distance. However, that smile upon his scarred and partially metallic visage soon became a frown, as his thoughts turned to the upcoming battle, and he wondered who might live, and who might die.

"So what next, Tarath?" Ariki inquired, standing about fifteen feet behind him, her arms crossed and her head cocked to one side.

"I'm not certain," the Reaver responded with a helpless shrug, "I suppose we should begin to try and locate more equipment and vehicles for the upcoming battle."

"Xadec wanted us to do something else too…" the Dragoon began, but she stopped, her breath catching in her throat as Tarath whirled around with blinding speed and paced up to her, before planting an index finger squarely in her visor.

"I know what the good Executor wants, Ariki," he stated, his voice a hiss, and noted the surprise that came over her, "yes, I know about them, I've read the damn report, and I am telling you here and now, we are not going to involve those Channelers in this battle."

"But…" the blue armored warrior began, only to find herself cut off again.

"No buts!" the other Praetor stated, his voice still a venomous whisper. "They have suffered enough because of their heritage, because of us, and we are not going to drag them into a war after all that they've already been through." He paused, literally shaking in anger. "You have not seen what I have seen, Ariki, while you and the others were tucked away in the safety of the Stasis Chamber, I wandered this world," he thumped a hand to his chest, while putting the other one out behind himself, making a large, sweeping gesture with it, "I saw the devastation that the Hora-quan wrought upon the elves as they searched for those with our cursed gift in their blood! I saw village after destroyed village, I saw entire civilizations shattered even as they were beginning to flourish, and I saw countless massacres as those hell spawned abominations ravaged those people."

He took a step close to the other Praetor, until he was up in her face, and he then took the hand that had been gesturing and began to forcefully tap his index finger against the left side of his helmet.

"And I. Can. Not. Forget it!" he snarled, referring to the computer portion of his brain. "I cannot forget the screams of the dying, the sound of the flames as they burned, the sight of the dead lying on the ground, their bodies ripped and torn apart by vicious Grunts and Drones!" he practically roared, though there was a crack that was evident in his voice. "That is the horror that we unleashed upon the elves, upon the Channelers, the terror that we brought to them by dragging them into the conflict! So do not tell me that we are going to involve more in this struggle, as it is bad enough that we are still going to be using Jak and Keira as soldiers in this upcoming battle!"

With that, the dark armored Ancient stormed past Ariki, who was at a loss for words over what had just occurred, and stormed back into the laboratory, pain welling up inside of his soul as he did so.

The partially computerized mind of Tarath Shien ran backwards through his memories, and he was unable to stop it, unable to shut out the memories that he wished so badly that he could forget, could drown out with something. Against his will, he found himself remembering back to one particularly fateful day, many thousands of years ago, in which the Kinslayer War drew itself to a close…

* * *

The Praetor sighed as he listened to the humming of the drop ship that he was in, and he looked around the transport compartment, his eyes roaming over the other twenty or so troopers that were inside of the darkened area. Many of them were strangers, people that he had never known, and it did not surprise him in the slightest.

This gods accursed war had raged on all over the planet for more than ten years now, and its devastation was evident almost anywhere one chose to look. Entire cities had been wiped off the map by attacking forces, and whole regions laid to waste by both sides.

Which was to say nothing of the loss of life in general. Both sides had started this conflict with almost half a billion troops at their command, and now…now that number was down to less than a hundred thousand on either side…and that wasn't even counting civilian casualties, which they'd long ago given up on trying to keep track of.

"We're exterminating ourselves…" Tarath muttered, his face one of sorrow as he hung his head.

The conflict had started some five years after he and his brothers had taken the arena by storm, a dispute erupting over this terraforming deal. At first he hadn't paid much heed to the squabbling of the scientists and engineers who were in charge of the project, but once the group that insisted they continue with the experiments broke off and formed their own 'nation' so to speak, things had become much more serious. Not long after that, the first shots were fired, the first blows struck, and for the first time in centuries, the Precursors were at war with each other.

His thoughts drifted to his brothers. Phoenix was on a drop ship on the other side of the aerial fleet, and the other Praetors were also randomly scattered throughout the ships, so that no one blast could kill them all. His adoptive twin had been quiet before the battle, and when others had asked to see whether or not he had had a vision of the upcoming conflict, the Archon had simply murmured that he'd seen devastation and death, but no foreseeable outcome.

Tarath whispered a quiet prayer to the gods, praying to them, begging them that his brother would live out the day, or that they would both die, for the Precursor warrior could not bare to think of being alone upon this world without his family. His adoptive parents had been killed during the onset of the war, when a Fallen Precursor strike force had made a lightning fast, blitzkrieg styled attack against the bastion that they'd been stationed at, completely wiping it out.

And Kerrog…oh how he silently wept for his younger sibling.

When the schism between the two factions had originally started, the Fallen Ones had rallied around a Templar by the name of Zanac, who had called for all who wished to further their race along the path of prosperity and the like to join the cause. Swept up by the frenzy, Kerrog and many other young warriors had joined their side, theArchon himself leaving one night after a furious argument in which he declared that the others were trying to hold their race back from what they truly deserved.

He let out a silent, bitter chuckle as he thought back over the latest intel that they had been given. From all reports, Zanac had been killed during the last major battle, slain when a Juggernaut had blown his drop ship out of the sky as he and his forces retreated. Now, Kerrog, whose skill had apparently resulted in a rapid rise through the ranks, was apparently in charge.

Pain welled up inside of himself, as he thought of all the things that he and Phoenix had told the youngest member of the trio, that the Archon would be a great warrior someday, someone that would be remembered for all time. It would seem as though that little prophecy of theirs had come true, only with a twisted, macabre element to it.

And the Fallen Ones were not the only side to have lost leadership, as was evident by the fact that the average age of the Praetors was now about twenty eight years indicated that many of the originals had fallen. All of the older warriors for the most part, those who had practiced and trained all their lives for a war that was never supposed to have come, were gone, slain in the countless battles that had ravaged Gaia over the past decade.

He shook his head once more, trying to figure out where they had gone wrong, what incorrect path his people had taken that had brought them to this bloody and catastrophic conflict. Much as he wracked his brain, he couldn't think of what had happened, and with a slight snarl, he banished such thinking from his mind. Such philosophizing wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but if he wished to survive the upcoming conflict, he was going to have to keep his mind on the battle and elements that were related to that.

However, one other thought sprung up into his mind before he could completely banish them, that of a potentially wondrous discovery that had been made almost six years ago.

A bizarre forest type region had been discovered about a decade ago, just before this mess had started. It was massive, nearly twenty five hundred square miles in size, and was buried within the heart of a mountain range all but impregnable to ground entry. Within it was contained a wealth of natural resources and Eco that had caused it to become a highly valued reserve in the event of needing such things. Since this happened before the war, both sides knew of it, and it was inevitable that a confration would eventually take place for control of it. For this reason, both sides had sent emissaries to the other and had come to an agreement upon the time of the battle. It had also been agreed that no vehicles or other such weaponry should be used, lest they destroy what they were fighting over.

However, as they were moving themselves into position to prepare for the fight, something had been discovered that the initial surveying team had apparently missed. One warrior had spotted the creature initially, and had called it out to his comrades.

He had been there that day, and could recall the creature with absolute clarity.

It was a most peculiar thing, pale and devoid of any fur save for a black mop of it upon its head, and some sort of fur and leather type garment that it appeared to have been wearing. It was about five feet tall, making it roughly three times the height of a normal Precursor, and its build suggested that it was a male. In its hands was clutched a weapon that Tarath had recognized from holo vids as a weapon used by his own people in ancient days as a bow, and he wondered if it might be a scout or a hunter among its kind…whatever exactly its kind was. The other thing that he couldn't help but notice was the thing's ears, which were enormously long and tapered back to a point.

It stood stock still, riveted in place by the sight of these armored warriors, which in their current form towered over him. Some moments passed, before the thing had bolted, and curiosity overwhelming him, then Centurion Tarath had instructed his troops to wait while he pursued the strange creature from a discreet distance.

He had followed it to a small clearing in the valley, and hovering amongst the tree branches, it was all he could do to keep the concentration necessary to remain in flight as he realized what was in the glade.

Crude huts, made of limbs and vines dotted the clearing, and he realized instantly that there was a whole village of these things.

That was about as far as his line of thinking got before he heard shouting in a foreign tongue and mentally slapped himself, realizing exactly how conspicuous he was, covering in black armor and floating up with the trees.

Before he could draw any more attention to himself, the Reaver dashed back to where he'd left his men, he knew he had to hurry, lest a battle commence while he was away.

Fortunately, the Fallen Ones took their time before arriving, and with some hasty explaining, a full scale conflict had been avoided once they had explained the situation.

After all, it would not have been honorable to involve another race in their war or to have ripped their home apart during a fight.

Forcefully bringing himself back to reality, he looked out over the troops, noticing one that seemed to be fidgeting in his seat. The green color of his armor indicated that he was an Arbiter, and judging by the length of his deadlocks, a rather young one at that.

The Arbiter would likely be in a different place than the Praetor and his own troops, but there hadn't been enough drop ships for all of the transports to have only one kind of soldier on board, as was evident by the Archon and two Zealots that were also onboard. The ship would drop off Tarath and the Reavers in one place, and then head over to the rest of the ground battle to unload the rest.

He strode over to the young warrior, and sat down next to him. The youth said Tarath's name and rank in surprise and started to stand and salute, but the dark armored Ancient merely held up a hand and motioned for him to stay in his seat.

"What's your name, son?" Tarath inquired, noticing inwardly at how old he suddenly felt, realizing. Strangely enough, that he probably was only about thirteen years senior to this other soldier, if his voice was any indicator.

"Solaris Arcana, sir." The Arbiter responded, and the Praetor could feel how nervous he was, and he realized this was probably the young man's first battle.

Compounding the fact was his Green Eco orientation, which made him a high value target on the battlefield, as his kind were the one that kept the army on its feet. Thus, eliminating the combat medics was a high priority on any competent commander's list of objectives.

"Don't worry," he said, placing a hand upon the green armored youth's shoulder, "we all get nervous before we head out to battle. You'll do fine as long as you keep cool and don't panic."

"Sir," the Arbiter asked as Tarath stood up to head back to the front of the craft, "how do you do it, how do you cope with it?"

The Reaver paused in mid stride, pondering the question, before answering.

"I remember that I have a job to do, and that if I don't do it, others will suffer because of it," Was his response.

"Oh…thank you, sir." Solaris said, bowing his head slightly.

The Praetor remained silent, steeling himself for the coming conflict.

* * *

It had come, they were now within the very heart of the Quarantine Zone, their name for the waste that had come of their grand experiment all those years ago, and the final battle was at hand.

Tarath felt the drop ship that he was on go into its hover mode, and then the gravity lift that would carry them to the ground activated. Like any leader worth his salt, the Praetor was the first trooper into it, the first of his ship to be dropped into the battle zone.

He felt the sense of vertigo that came over one almost every time the gravity lift was used, and then he was outside of the transport craft. He spared a quick look around, taking a rough tally of the forces that were gather here even as the first wave of Stingers on both sides were streaking in towards each other. It was obvious that both sides were going for broke, as each appeared to have about fifteen Golems and twenty of the huge, spidery Juggernauts stomping around, and even as he gazed at them, their primary weapons glowed, and the next instant the air was filled with the distinctive roar of a Vector Cannon firing at full power. The massive, multi colored energy beam streaked from one of their own vessels and slammed into the lead Fallen Juggernaut. However, the armor of the walking death machine, which was about four meters thick, held up under the assault, and returned the favor a moment later.

The dark armored Ancient was quick to turn his attention to a more pressing matter as far as he was concerned, that of the massive wave of Fallen Stingers that were streaking across the battlefield, heading for the infantry, with an aerial escort composed of Reavers and Templars.

The Reaver knew his duty, and he bolted up into the air, willing himself to move as fast as he could towards the enemy bikes. As he shot towards them, the other black armored soldiers began to link up, with their own yellow armored Templars taking position above them, creating a loose formation.

The Fallen Precursor soldiers were doing the exact same thing, forming up to provide cover for their own bikes, while searching for an opportunity to destroy as many of the enemies' as was possible, as left unchecked, the lightning fast Stingers could wreak havoc upon the ground forces.

His eyes narrowed behind his visored helmet as he sighted up his first opponent, a Templar that was near the right edge of the enemy formation, and he felt within himself, calling upon his powers for the purpose of killing another of his kind…something that had become disturbingly easy for him to do.

He extended his left hand and fired a blast of dark lightning, the opening shot of the infantry on this battle to end all battles. The Templar attempted to twist out of the way, but with an effort of will, the Reaver had his attack follow him. The lightning hit dead on, and coursed its way over the enemy soldier, circulating around him for a couple of seconds before it managed to penetrate his armor. The Fallen Precursor let out a single, sharp cry, and then plummeted towards the ground as gravity took hold of the corpse.

It proved to be a cue, and within moments, energy bursts filled the air, whizzing about and impacting upon their targets, be they dark armored Reavers aiming for enemy soldiers in the air Templars aiming for the Stingers upon the ground.

The Dragoons below, realizing that the fight was on, accelerated to full attack speed, which was approximately six hundred kilometers an hour. At such a speed, attempting to fire at each other was nearly pointless, especially with their bike's Eco casters having a limited charge. Against each other, the blue armored warriors would use their duracon staves, as they were called, to try and slay their opponents.

A flash of light off to one side caught the eye of the Praetor, and he saw another Fallen Templar preparing to unleash a burst of Eco upon the ranks of the mounted soldiers below. Without hesitating for a single second, the Reaver formed and hurled a ball of black energy at the yellow armored warrior. Caught up in the concentration required for precision targeting, the Templar did not realize the danger that he was in until it was too late. The dark bomb impacted, and enveloped him. His cry was drowned out amongst the din of the battle, but Tarath prayed that he had put enough power into the Channeled attack that Death had come to claim his enemy swiftly.

He had seen some soldiers who had survived such attacks, their half disintegrated bodies slowly dying as they screamed in agony…and it was a fate he would not have wished upon anyone.

However, the thought was a quick one, and it swiftly fled from his mind as he heard a death cry from above, and was barely able to twist out of the way in time to avoid having the smoldering corpse of one of his own comrades land upon him. The other Reaver's body tumbled to the ground, where it hit, rolled for a dozen or so yards, and then lay still.

Agony welled up within him, but he would mourn later, right now, the battle depended upon him and his fellows accomplishing their objectives.

Down below, he search the screams of battle wavering upward as the Dragoons slammed into each other, followed swiftly by explosions and death cries as the two lines hit each other at a combined speed of well over mach one. And up on his level, the enemy also reached melee range, so with a flick of his wrist, he snapped his warp blade into an attack position, and charged towards the first opponent he could see.

One might wonder how in the world the two forces managed to tell friend from foe, as they were very similar in appearance. Indeed, the only real difference was that the Precursors themselves had retained the old, angular appearance to their Metatron armor, whilst the Fallen Ones had adopted a more rounded suit. However, when one had been battle a foe for more than a decade, even such subtle differences stood in as stark contrast as night was from day.

Careful not to become too absorbed in the fight, lest death strike from below or above, Tarath Shien met his first adversary blade upon blade in that instant, the enemy Reaver coming in with an uppercut styled attack, while the Praetor countered by catching the weapon with his own. He then tried to slide his scythe like blade down to his opponent's hand, in hopes of cutting it off, but his foe was a crafty one, and had seen his tactic from the moment that he had locked blades.

His foe's left hand shot out, grabbing his right wrist in an iron hard grip, being mindful not to slice his fingers off on the underside of the warp blade. But Tarath was a cunning warrior in his own right, and had not survived more than two hundred engagements with the enemy to be taken down by such a tactic.

Taking advantage of the fact that they were in mid air, the dark armored Ancient flexed himself backwards, before driving both of his feet up into his opponents head. The force behind the blow was so great that even a fair sized yakow would have had its thick skull caved in by impact. However, as it was, the enemy Reaver suffered a badly cracked visor and what would doubtless be a broken jaw. Nonetheless, Tarath's foe did not cry out in pain, but released his grip upon the Praetor, and flipped backwards up into the air, bringing his warp blade around to defend against the charge that he knew was coming.

However, when he completed his flip, he discovered that his opponent was nowhere to be found, and his last thought was something along the lines of 'oh drek' as he realized that the Praetor had used the chaos of the aerial melee to slip around behind him. The Fallen Precursor attempted to stop the inevitable by dashing forward and turning around, but he was not fast enough, and the next thing he felt was a blinding agony across the back of his neck…

Tarath watched the decapitated corpse fall form the sky, and nodded somberly, before turning around at the sound of something approaching him. He was just in time to lock blades with another enemy Reaver. This one did not appear to be as skilled as his previous opponent, and judging by the aggression, this was probably her first battle. Still, even a rookie Precursian warrior was a deadly adversary, and Tarath found himself having to whip his scythe like weapon back and forth rapidly in an attempt to keep his adversary from piercing his defenses and taking care of him.

But as it was in so many cases, experience won out in such fights, and the young fighter made a fatal mistake, overextending herself in one of her downward slashes. The Praetor deftly spun to one side, and the instant that happened, the youth knew that she was doomed. Tarath's warp blade came down hard and stuck his foe on the elbow, where the armor was not present as to allow for maximum movement. The Metatron weapon sliced through without even slowing down, and his foe howled in pain, instinctively bringing her left arm to clutch at the wound. In a blurred motion that was too fast for most eyes to follow, the Praetor spun around, bringing his blade up along the youth's chest, disemboweling her before slicing into her heart, mercifully ending her suffering.

It would only be later that Tarath would allow himself to be haunted by that scream, the scream of a young girl that should have lived far longer upon the face of Gaia.

The dark armored Ancient spared himself a moment to glance down at the ground battle, and frowned to himself. A number of their own Stingers had managed to break free of the cavalry styled battle that was raging down below him, up they were running into problems from a Golem that had apparently marched over here to try and take care of their mounted soldiers.

The Golem was a military vehicle designed just before the war, as preparation for escort forces that would accompany diplomats to other world, just in case the locals turned out to be less than friendly. It was a fairly large piece of bipedal machinery, at about thirty odd feet in height, and was piloted by a single Dragoon from inside of its insectiod head. Their orientation lent the blue armored troopers speed and multitasking capabilities that enabled them to do twice what most others could while behind the seat of those machines. While nowhere near as powerful offensively or defensively as a Juggernaut, it was considerably more agile, and could wreak havoc upon one of the larger machines if they managed to flank them. This was actually where the rest of them were, as whoever emerged from the conflict with the most weapons platforms intact was going to come out on top, and both sides knew it.

The gleaming bronze color of its armor reflected the blazing sunlight as it trained its massive, left arm Eco caster upon a group of three Stingers that had broken free of the mess. Looking back over their shoulders to see if they were truly in the clear, the pilots were swift to realize the danger that they were in, scattered and accelerated up to full speed, trying to present the enemy pilot with as many moving targets as they could. All the while, they streaked towards a battalion of Fallen Zealots that were rushing towards the front lines. But the Fallen pilot was a skilled warrior, who kept his weapon trained upon the lead Stinger even as it tried to evade him, and Tarath watched, helpless, as a massive beam of Yellow Eco came blasting out of the barrel of the weapon. The Dragoon piloting the Stinger tried to make a last second swerve out of the way, but the blast, which left a good, thirty foot crater behind, enveloped him, and he his bike were destroyed in an instant.

There was a garbled sound over the comm., and Tarath was relieved to hear the sound of Phoenix's voice on the other end, despite the fact that this battle had been raging for less than seven minutes.

"Tarath, the Dragoons have a problem." He began, before his adoptive sibling cut him off.

"I know, I'm right up here with the damn thing! Any ideas?" the Reaver growled, watching as another quarter of bikes were vaporized by the Golem, shrapnel scattering in the wake of the explosion.

"Have Araic order a few of his Templars to attack that thing and try to keep it busy," he said, which would have been a rather laughable idea under normal circumstances, as the odds of infantry taking down such a machine weren't very good, "I'll get a message through to the Executor and see if I can't get some of the big guns in to help you out."

Instantly, Tarath saw his brother's plan, and knew what he was going to try to do. Thus, he quickly relayed orders to Araic, and with a bit of an explanation, was able to get a few of the yellow armored troopers to break from battle and head over to harass the thing.

Meanwhile, Phoenix was busy on his comm. system, floating about fifty feet above an engagement of his own forces and some Fallen Dragoons.

"Executor?" he inquired, waiting until his got confirmation that his leader had received his signal.

A screen appeared upon his visor's HUD, showing him a picture of Executor Xadec Thas, clad in his gold and silver battle armor that only the leader of the Precursors had ever been allowed to wear. Their leader was aboard one of the Juggernauts, in the safest place he could be at the moment, with four meters of Metatron battle plate between him and any hostile ground forces. The Executor had a tight grip upon his force pike, and was busy directing the tactical battle between the heavily armored behemoths and their adversaries.

"What is it Phoenix?" Xadec inquired, pausing for a moment to give out some orders to the Dragoon pilots in front of him, and their hands blurred over their control panels in response.

"There is a enemy Golem that is attacking the Stingers," the Archon leader stated, his voice cool despite the situation, "requesting that one of the Juggernauts dispatch it before it can rip them to shreds."

"Show me," was the order that he received.

With a series of rapid blinks, the white armored Praetor called up a black box styled function that allowed his commander to see as he saw, and he was quick to gaze in the direction of the bipedal machine, and was just in time to watch another pair of bikes go up in flames under the assault from the pulse cannon mounted on its right wrist.

"Tell Ariki and her forces to hold on," the Precursor leader stated, before opening up another comm. channel to the bridge commander of one of the other Juggernauts.

The order was dispatched, and Phoenix watched as one of the eight legged constructs, moved slightly out of position, redirecting the massive cannon to where it was aimed at the bronze Golem. Then energy began to gather around the end of the barrel, and Phoenix smiled grimly as he dove back into the battle, knowing that one shot at full power would probably be more than enough to deal with the threat.

Indeed, that was to be the case, as the massive beam of energy flew across the battlefield. The Fallen pilot, having believed that his own force's Juggernauts would keep the enemy's tangled up, was completely caught off guard by attack. To his credit, he saw it coming, and tried to maneuver out of the way, but it would not be enough. The Vector Cannon round nailed it just shy of what would have been a bulls-eye, and the armor, a full meter of Metatron, held for all of a millisecond before it gave way. The vital systems on the inside were shredded and destroyed almost instantly, and a massive fireball consumed the Golem, leaving the path free for Ariki and company to finish trying to mop up the Fallen Dragoons, and then make their way towards the rest of the infantry.

Tarath spared a quick glance around the massive battlefield that rampaged over the desert. Most of the infantry was already engaged, and he could see the different colors mingling as Archons, Dragoons, and Zealots all scrapped it out with each other. He knew that Solaris and the other Arbiters were also to be found there, saving those that were upon death's doorstep so that they might rise and fight again, placing themselves at terrible risk while they were at it.

Above him, the battle between the Reavers and the Templars still raged, but that was of secondary concern to him right now, and he knew that his troops were skilled and open minded enough to manage themselves without his commands for a few minutes. He needed to get Ariki and her fellows freed up from the tangle that they were in, so that they could get over and assist the infantry forces.

Originally, their plan had called for the mounted soldiers to come in from a sideways angle, tearing the largest possible hole in the enemy, and if they were to carry the day down there, it was imperative that those Stingers be put to use against something other than their nemeses.

A quick relay of an order later, and the Praetor and a few hundred Reavers dropped out of the aerial battle, hoping that the chaos that reigned above would be enough to mask their departure.

A battle cry upon his tongue, the dark armored ancient and his comrades, dove towards the ground battle, summoning up dark bombs and other such attacks, before raining them down upon the Fallen Precursors, the shots struck home for the most part, and the enemy Dragoons suddenly found themselves under attack from two fronts as they realized their aerial defensive screen had been penetrated.

But while the Reavers might have had the advantage here, with their ability to fly and rain death and destruction down from above, they were not invincible, and Tarath quickly found himself have to dodge to the sky as a duracon stave came flying in at him, thrown boomerang style by its owner some sixty feet below. Scanning about quickly as the weapon returned to the hands of its wielder, the dark armored Ancient spotted the Dragoon, and let fly a blast of Dark Eco lightning. The bolts coursed their way over the Fallen Precursor, and he slumped from his Stinger. Whether he was dead or merely dying, writhing about in agony on the sand below, the Reaver knew not, for he was quickly forced to turn his attention to another foe.

He ducked underneath a hurled stave, and this time, wishing to conserve his Eco reserves for later battles, charged headlong at the warrior that had chucked it at him. The Fallen Dragoon's eyes widened in surprise as he saw the Praetor diving in at him. He started to move his bike along a different course, but Tarath anticipated such a move, and with a single barrel role, was able to plant himself right in front of the blue armored warrior just a moment before he would have been able to reach out and grasp his weapon once again. His warp blade hissed as he lashed out, decapitating his foe and kicking the corpse off of the hover bike for good measure.

Looking around he saw a group of three that were preparing to charge, and he concentrated as they accelerated, calling upon his powers and forming a large ball of Dark Eco between his hands. With a scream that might have been mistaken for a roar, Tarath smashed his left fist into the Channeled attack, sending it on its way. His foes literally never knew what hit them, as the burst attack exploded, slaying all three of them and blowing up their vehicles as well.

But while those three might have been dealt with, the battle that raged here was still far from won.

A battle cry from above caused Tarath to look upwards, and he saw a Fallen Reaver diving down towards him, and the Praetor cocked his warp blade back behind himself, preparing to meet the reckless dive head on. The two scythe like weapons clashed an instant later, scrapping against one another with a harsh, shrieking sound that would have had many covering their ears and gnashing their teeth. Just as quickly, the two black armored warriors broke the blade lock, flying backwards until they were about five feet apart. They then began to circle each other, floating slowly while down below, the Dragoons of both sides still clashed with one another.

The momentary calm of this battle, just one of thousands of personal struggles that was being carried out upon this field of combat today, renewed itself with a vengeance about three seconds later, and the two Reavers dashed towards each other. Tarath came in from above, bringing his weapon down in a slash that was angled at his adversaries right side, while the Fallen Precursors lashed out from the side, attempting to slip his warp blade in-between the Praetor's ribs. However, both combatants managed to barrel roll out of the way of the attacks.

Not to be deterred, Tarath followed through with a might kick that was aimed at his foe's temple, while said foe retaliated with a punch aimed squarely at his solar plexus. Once again, both attacks failed as their respective targets evaded them. The Praetor was then swift to realize that this was no green rookie that he was dealing with here, but a seasoned veteran that had doubtless survived many battles and probably had more than a few dozen kills under his belt.

They met again with a flurry of blades as Tarath hoped to try and overwhelm his adversary with the sheer aggressiveness of his powers. His weapon came in low, a strike that was aimed at his opponent's groin, while he expertly ducked a blow that would have made him shorter by a head had it managed to connect. His foe drew back in time, but the Praetor would give him neither rest nor quarter in this battle, coming in again from above, this time aiming to strike just below his adversary's left armpit. With a deft spin, the other Reaver evaded the strike, before attempting a similar move, only this time, the dark armored warrior was aiming for the armpit itself, rather than the weaker armor underneath, no doubt hoping to pierce a lung and severely cripple the Praetor.

However, it wasn't the first time that such a tactic had been used upon the leader of the Precursor Reavers, and Tarath hadn't been the reigning arena champion for so long by getting hit by such an attack. With an incredibly fast back flip, the dark armored Ancient was able to get himself above the range of the strike, and at the same time, lash out with a blow of his own. His adversary saw the attack coming, and tried to yank his arm back in time, but was not quite fast enough.

Much to his irritation, though, Tarath discovered a second later that the blow he had managed to land was not near as damaging as he had hoped it would become. His adversary had a superficial cut running the length of his right arm, and was still more than capable of continuing with their little fight.

He was also quick to do such a thing, coming in fast and hard at the other Reaver, his warp blade coming in with wicked speed as he performed a mid air spin. Fortunately, with an effort of will, the Praetor was able to dash backwards out of the way of the strike, and thereby avoid a potentially fatal blow. He then made his move, hoping to strike his opponent from behind and end the scrap then and there, however, his foe was also cunning, and knew that such an attack was to be expected upon presenting an exposed back to a foe of such a caliber, and he quickly shot up into the air as Tarath charged forward, letting the Praetor pass underneath him, where he then hoped to strike.

However, instead of the satisfying sensation of a blade piercing flesh, what he instead got was the harsh cacophony of Metatron grating upon itself as the other Reaver stuck his scythe like weapon behind his head and intercepted the attack, swatting it harmlessly away. Then, with the flexibility that one would normally associate with a person who was double jointed, the Praetor balled himself up and flipped around, bringing his weapon in at his foe's abdomen.

Too late, the other Reaver saw his error, and knew that he had been baited, that his foe had known that he would perform such a dive, and apparently knew a way to counter it.

In vain, he shot backwards, but the blow still hit home. With tremendous force, Tarath's warp blade pierced the stomach region of his armor, the serrated weapon tearing through Metatron and flesh, and the Fallen Precursor felt as if a bolt of lightning had struck him, so great was the pain.

But he was not yet finished, and still had some life left within himself. With one hand clutched to his gut to try and keep his innards from spilling out, the other black armored Precursor still engaged the Praetor, knowing that the odds were long, but it was still possible that he might best this foe of his in battle and retreat to where the Arbiters were.

Tarath, knowing that his adversary was battered but not yet beaten, hammered his attacks home with a fury that he had rarely been seen using before, forcing the other Reaver onto the defensive and doing his best to keep him there. After all, his foe was bleeding rather profusely, and it was only a matter of time before that blood loss caused his reflexes to slow and his strength to desert him.

For some minutes, the Fallen Precursor managed to hold his ground, but he quickly realized that he was a dead man, and sure enough, distracted by the pain and the loss of his own life fluid, he eventually made a fatal error.

Tarath came in from the left, and his foe's weapon went there to stop it. However, the attack proved to be a feint, a distraction. He realized his error just as the Praetor's fist was beginning to fill up his visor, and he inwardly cursed as he realized that the battle was finished now.

Tarath's fist slammed into the face of his opponent with such force that it shattered the visor of the other Reaver's helmet, revealing blood red eyes that reminded Tarath very much of his own. Right now though, the flames of those crimson orbs were nearly extinguished, and he was about to finish the job. The with his foe reeling backwards from the punch, his defenses were wide open, and it was a simple matter to drive the scythe like weapon attached to his wrist into his foe's heart.

The other Reaver made a brief, choking noise before he fell backwards off of the warp blade, his corpse actually knocking a Fallen Dragoon from his Stinger as it fell in gravity's embrace.

Another victory, another kill… another Precursor that would never again draw breath…

* * *

About ten minutes had passed since Tarath had engaged the veteran in mortal combat, and finally, a break had come. Some of the Templars had finally managed to fight their way down to the ground battle, and had then began to rain destruction down upon the Fallen Dragoons, creating a big enough opening that a sizeable force of their own cavalry was break through and begin streaking across the desert sands towards the other infantry battle, Ariki Crystala being among them.

Tarath and several thousand Reavers and Templars trailed behind Ariki and the mounted soldiers, and behind them, the sounds of battle still echoed as some forces on both sides continued to wage their own battles.

From the reports that he'd been picking up, not to mention the massive explosions that he had also seen, it appeared as though they were also winning the heavy armor battle, with Xadec's impressive knowledge of such tactics having the current odds of the Juggernaut battle being something in the nature of two to one, their favor.

However, the battle was far from finished, and it was still convincible that they could lose, and Gaia would be the one to pay the price.

The sands of the Quarantine Zone streaked below him as Tarath steeled himself for the second half of this fight, the one that would determine the outcome of the whole struggle. It was time for him to prove his worth to his people once and for all, and he prayed to whatever deity might have been listening, that he would not fail.

Off in the distance, a miniature sun formed as a Fallen Juggernaut went up in smoke.

* * *

With a roar, the dark armored Ancient dived into the heart of the conflict once again, streaking down to where he was at the ground level of the fighting, intermingling among Dragoons, Archons, Zealots, and even the odd Arbiter rushing about, frantically trying to heal fallen soldiers and get them back into the battle once again.

The battle had been raging for some time now, and twelve more foes had fallen before him, and now he was working on number thirteen.

For some minutes, the Praetor engaged an unmounted Dragoon. The soldier was another veteran, and had even managed to draw blood from his adversary, striking Tarath twice across the right side of his helmet, giving him two gashes across his cheek that he had little doubt would leave behind reminders of this fight. He growled in frustration, trying to find a means of overpowering his foe. However, assistance was about to come from a most unlikely source.

Tarath's warp blade had just blocked a downward attack from the Dragoon's duracon stave, when another battle cry split the air, and both parties looked in the direction that it had come from.

It was an Arbiter, charging straight at the Fallen Precursor, distortions rippling around his hands and feet as he focused his powers and created the strange, short range telekinetic field that only Arbiters could. Arbiters were normally medics, and to see one in battle was strange thing indeed, but their Niyan hand to hand combat techniques could really ruin someone's day when they connected.

The Dragoon shifted his grip upon his dual bladed staff, sticking one part out in hopes that the Arbiter's own momentum would cause him to impale himself. However, the green armored warrior swatted the blade harmlessly aside and the leapt in, cocking his left fist back before striking out with a mighty punch. The Dragoon, his attention divided between the dark armored Praetor in front of him, and this crazed medic, was unable to shift out of the way of the blow as it connected. Tarath watched the fist, the telekinetic field amplifying its power, slam into the left shoulder of the Fallen Precursor.

The Metatron armor ruptured and was smashed inward under the force of the blow, and even above the din of the battle, the Reaver could hear the sound of bone shattering. Unable to effectively wield its large weapon with one hand, the Fallen Dragoon fell swiftly, his guts spilling out over the battle ground as Tarath disemboweled him.

There was something about the Arbiter that seemed familiar, and then it clicked.

"Nice Job, Solaris." Tarath replied with a grim smile, happy that the youth had managed to survive such battle thus far.

The young Arbiter looked as if he was about to reply, when he suddenly turned and saw something. In the blink of an eye, the green armored warrior had thrust his hands out around himself, and formed a shield of Green Eco. It was a good thing that he did so, too, as a blast of white energy came streaking in at him, a moment later, where it detonated with a thunderous racket.

The flash cleared, revealing Solaris Arcana, unharmed and still shielded, looking up at this new foe. Tarath followed the glance and saw who had created the attack, and he felt his blood run cold while agony began to well up in his soul.

The Archon that had been responsible for the energy ray had horns very similar to his own upon his helmet, and the ornate markings upon his armor singled him out as something more than a mere Praetor.

For the first time in many years, Kerrog and Tarath stared at each other, both wondering what cruel sense of fate it was that would pit them against each other.

Nodding somberly to Solaris, the dark armored Ancient rose upwards, his weapon held at ready while he got to the same altitude that his brother was at.

"Kerrog," the elder of the two siblings remarked, "looks like you've become the warrior that Phoenix predicted you would be…"

"Only not quite as our brother thought, Tarath." The Fallen Archon replied, and Tarath could tell there was a bitter smile on the other side of that white helmet. "Come then, my brother, let us convey our words and feelings as we know how…through battle. Let us see who fights the hardest for what he believes in!"

He then slapped his left fist over his chest in salute to his foe, a gesture that his brother returned, and then both readied themselves.

Time seemed to stop, and the unearthly mixture of explosions from Channeled attacks, the clash of weapons, and the screams of the dying seemed to fade away.

Then the moment passed, and both brothers were streaking towards each other, their blades cocked back and battle cries upon their tongues.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, stopping there, as this chapter is already pretty big.

Hope you people enjoyed it, and if anyone was wondering, the Golem is supposed to be what the Precursor Robot was from the first J&D game, though I am not sure if I managed to pull it off properly, and the Juggernauts, of course, are what Errol managed to get his hands upon.

Gotta go now, but if you have any ideas, constructive criticisms, comments, or flames, feel free to let me know, and be certain to have a great day.

See you next time, until then, this is Red Mage 04, signing off.


	17. When An Age Comes Crashing Down, Part Tw

Hello everyone, its been a week, so here I am again.

I want to apologize for the lack of description that i put into the golems, and I hope no one wishes to kill me for that little flub up. I also hope that those of you who read, but did not review were not mentally scarred by the chapter.

On another note, some people were curious about the nature of the Ascended Channelers. Basically, their elemental alignment would be determined by their ancestory, if they came from a Reaver, they would be dark ones like Jak, and one with an Archon for an ancestory would be light oriented, etc and so forth. I am afraid this is as far as I can go into answering an anonymous review at the moment, at least until the administrators get off whatever they're on and start letting us do that again (glares at admin.) However, if you want a question answered, and you leave me an e-mail address, or something that I can get back to you with, I shall gladly answer whatever you ask.

Lawyers: I own nothing, so leave me in what little peace I have left.

That said, here is the next chapter.

* * *

&

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When an Age comes crashing down, Part Two

Screaming at the tops of their lungs, Tarath Shien and Kerrog Losstarr, adoptive siblings, friends, and now mortal enemies, dashed towards each other, their blades cocked back and readied for the opening blows of a confrontation that would likely determine the outcome of the battle.

Whether Tarath chose to acknowledge the fact or not, the Precursors saw him as their champion, their greatest warrior. Xadec may have been the commander of their armed forces and their civilization in general, but it was the black armored Ancient that so many followed, it was he that they looked to and rallied around when the going got tough, and his defeat would be a tremendous psychological blow to his soldiers. It was the same with Kerrog, for many Fallen had come to see him as a hero, for here was a young warrior, in the prime of his life, that had put aside the comfort of the civilized world to lead them, risking death an more. Furthermore, and even more important as far as the Fallen were concerned, he was unafraid of the consequences of his decisions and determined to face the same fate as his brothers and sisters in arms.

Thus, did the most important individual conflict of the whole battle begin.

Kerrog brought his cryosis sword from behind and thrust it forward in an attempt to run the dark armored warrior through. However, he held his adoptive brother very high on his list of respected warriors and was not at all surprised when Tarath smacked the weapon harmlessly aside and countered with a swift jab from his left hand. The blow connected with the Fallen Archon's chest, and he took it stoically, though he knew that he would be sporting a fist shaped bruise on his chest the next day. In an attempt to retaliate, he brought his feet up, slamming them into his adversary's chest, knocking the Reaver backwards through the air.

The younger warrior prepared to charge forward and keep on the offensive, when Tarath, still reeling backwards, brought up his left hand and fired a blast of Dark Eco lightning at the white armored Ancient. Behind his visor, Kerrog's azure eyes widened in surprise, and he made a quick dash to his left to avoid being fried, firing off an energy ray composed of Light Eco while he was at it. With the same ease as his brother, the Reaver dodged the blast, and it crashed into the ground below.

Neither of them wasted a second, and they were back in each other's faces within the blink of an eye, their melee weapons clashing and clanging against one another in a dazzling and deadly dance as they thrust and slashed, parried and riposted, feinted and kicked, each trying to overcome the other, and finding out that they were facing their polar opposite.

Perhaps it was fate…that they should be the challenge for each other, that both siblings should find within themselves their greatest test…

But they did not have time to dwell upon such philosophies, for right now they had more pressing matters, namely stopping the other sibling from striking them down.

Kerrog thrust his longsword styled weapon forward again, aiming for just below Tarath's sternum, but the strike never hit home, as the Reaver's warp blade came up from below and intercepted it, forcing it to go high above the dark armored Precursor's head. For some moments, they hovered over the battle field like that, each one's concentration fully devoted to trying to win the blade lock.

However, there was a massive explosion to the west of them, so great that even where they were, the two Ancients were sent tumbling through the air, and many soldiers on the ground, completely unprepared for the shockwave following such a colossal blast, were knocked right off of their feet, and struggled to get back up, lest their opponent rise first and finish them off.

The shockwave had separated the two warriors dueling in the sky, so Tarath took a quick glance in the direction from which the blast had come from, and he quickly deduced what had caused it. Xadec was doing his job well, and concentrated fire from several Precursor Juggernauts had obliterated an entire squadron of the enemy's. The Fallen Golems weren't fairing to well either, as unknown to the Fallen Ones, the Precursors had taken the liberty of installing far more weapons upon their own bipedal constructs and had even found a way to amp up the firepower of their Juggernaut's point defense Eco casters.

However, this was not to say that they were not taking losses of their own, as one of their own heavy weapons platforms was turned into a nova a second later, the blast also taking out a pair of friendly Golems that had been too close.

Nonetheless, it looked as if the battle might have been starting to turn in their favor.

That was all the time he had to spare, as his brother came flying back in at him, sunlight reflecting off of his cryosis sword as he brought it in from the side, trying his best to defeat his elder sibling. However, he made a potentially fatal error as he came in so fast. Tarath once again unleashed his Channeling powers, sending purplish black lightning streaking in towards him once again. Moving as fast as he was, Kerrog had little time to react, and desperately tried to barrel roll out of the way. He succeeded in avoiding the worst part of the blast, and his armor absorbed still more of it, but some of it still managed to nail him as he started his evasive maneuver.

The pain was nearly blinding, but being the warrior that he was, the Fallen leader was able to keep a level enough head that he realized what was coming next. The pain slowed him down however, and Tarath still managed to draw first blood, but the wound was merely a gash along the edge of his rib cage, not the full scale disembowelment that it would have been had he remained paralyzed by his agony. Hissing slightly as his brain realized what was happening, Kerrog brought his cryosis sword down from above, aiming to try and take Tarath's arm off at the elbow. Realizing his brother's intention, the dark armored warrior was quick to yank his limb back out of the attack range, but he made a mental note not to overreach himself to such a degree again.

On some level, even as their personal struggle rage, Tarath felt a degree an emotion he could only call pride over his little adoptive sibling. While it was true that they were mortal enemies at the moment, he was proud that his brother had managed to come so far, become such an ideal warrior.

Oh how he hated the outcome of this fight, and he wondered deep down, if he could bring himself to kill one so close to his heart and soul.

An explosion lit up the ground beneath him, and he heard screams as warriors, male and female alike, perished.

He banished those thoughts, buried them deep down inside of himself for the moment. There was too much at stake to let his heart rule his mind at the moment, the whole world was depending upon the Precursors to triumph here and now in this fight, and he needed only to gaze around at the vast, unending dunes and sand filled waste of this battleground to know what fate would befall Gaia if they were to lose here today.

It was from that that he drew his strength, the knowledge of what failure would bring, and his stubborn desire that that would not be the outcome of the battle here today. Once again, his warp blade locked up against Kerrog's cryosis sword, and even though a visor covered his eyes, the younger of the two warriors knew that his sibling was glaring at him from behind his helmet.

However, he was not going to be unnerved simply because his elder brother chose to narrow his eyes at him, and he suddenly took a note from his brother's book. While their blades scraped against one another, the Fallen Archon brought his left hand up, and a bright flash was all the warning that his opponent got as a ray of Light Eco blasted out of Kerrog's palm.

Tarath just managed to duck the attack, and thus was not fully prepared when his white armored adversary back flipped and twisted, before making an upside down oriented cut at him. He managed to fly backwards and avoid having his leg hacked off, but he got a nice little souvenir as the tip of the cryosis sword drew blood.

For a moment, the two circled each other, letting a slight lull come over the fighting, while off in the distance, yet another Fallen Juggernaut became a ball of light, a shockwave emanating out of it as it was consumed. Keeping one eye upon his brother, Tarath took another quick gaze around the battlefield.

Their own heavy weapons platforms now outnumbered the Fallen's by a margin of nearly three to one, and a quick glance over his shoulder showed that the remainder of their Dragoons had finished mopping up their adversaries meant that the battle below was about to get very, very uncomfortable for any Fallen unfortunate enough to become the target of a duracon stave or an Eco caster.

"It's over, Kerrog." He said, trying to see if he could force a surrender and avoid any more death on this day. "Give it up, this is a battle that you cannot win!"

"And what if we do surrender, Tarath, what then?" the Fallen Leader shot back. "You would have us cut off any and all advancement with the terraforming process. That is the key to our future! The key to us being able to colonize other worlds!"

"At no heed to the cost?" the Reaver growled, pointing around to the waste they battled in. "Have you forgotten what happened with the last experiments?"

"We made a mistake." his brother replied, a tone of regret in his voice. "But isn't science itself a process of trial and error? I will not stand by and let you and the others prevent us from taking this leap forward! My honor demands nothing less!"

With that, the Fallen Archon once again blasted in towards his adoptive sibling, a Precursor war cry upon his tongue. Tarath shot forward as well, and they once more met each other blade upon blade.

Unknown to the Reaver, was the sorrow that was welling up inside of the heart of his foe, as Kerrog cursed whatever cruel deity had propelled his people to this moment in time. He took no pleasure, no gratification, and no rush of adrenaline when he cut down one of his own kind, knowing full well that he had just killed another Precursor. Why? The Fallen Leader thought to himself as he once more tried to strike Tarath down, swinging down with a blow that was meant to decapitate his sibling if it connected, only to have it knocked aside by the Reaver's warp blade. Why couldn't the others see that the terraforming project was the only way for them to guarantee a successful future for their kind?

Tarath's line of thinking was still much the same, agony tearing through his soul as he found himself here, trying to kill someone who was a family member, a person he should have gladly been willing to die for…

An opportunity presented itself to the Reaver, and he took full advantage of it. He deftly spun out of the way of the next attack that Kerrog threw at him, and in a blur of motion, grabbed him by his left arm, before spinning once again, this time to place himself behind his adoptive sibling. His foe, caught off guard by this sudden maneuver, had to bit his lip so hard that he drew blood to avoid crying out as he felt his arm pop out of its socket. That sensation was quickly followed by Tarath planting his foot into his back, sending him flying down towards the ground.

However, he was able to keep up enough concentration to avoid eating dirt, and leveled off before streaking back up, his left arm dangling uselessly from the rest of his body, every motion sending bolts of pain streaking up it.

"Let this end!" Tarath cried again, pleading with his younger sibling.

Tarath got not verbal response from his sibling. Instead, Kerrog's reply came in the form of using his right hand to reach down and grasp his left arm. Even from where he was, the dark armored warrior could hear the crack as his brother popped the limb back into place, and then rotated his arm a few times to make certain that he had full use of it once again. He then offered the Praetor another salute, before streaking in towards him, his cryosis sword cocked back for another powerful strike.

Tarath was beginning to realize that no words would persuade his brother to lay down his arms, and no amount of diplomacy would allow for this battle to come to an end. That left only one option to end this war once and for all…he had to take the Fallen Archon down.

And so he no longer pulled his punches, and his sibling was about to witness first hand how he had come to be known as the champion of the Precursors.

He caught the longsword styled weapon with his warp blade, knocking it to the side before unleashed a trio of dark bolt attacks. Kerrog managed to dodge the first one, spinning down and to the left of his adversary. However, his foe had paid close attention to him throughout the fight, and had noticed that the white armored warrior seemed to favor that direction, as a result, when Kerrog tried the maneuver, he successfully dodged the first of the attacks, only to find that he had placed himself squarely in the path of the second and third.

His armor absorbed most of the damage, but it still left him with a rather uncomfortable burning sensation upon his chest. From this position, he noticed that Tarath was creating another attack, and hastily erected a shield around himself, hoping to ward the coming attack. However, that was not going to be enough, as he realized, to late, that the erecting of the barrier had given his black armored sibling just enough time to charge up a burst styled attack, and a massive dark bomb was streaking in towards him.

The attack slammed into his shield with earth shattering force, and the barrier held for a few secant milliseconds, before it collapsed under the fury of the Dark Eco attack. The remainder of the assault crashed through, enveloping him.

Being on the other end of the alignment spectrum, Kerrog had a special vulnerability to this particular element, and that manifested itself a moment later when he screamed in agony, a noise that tore at the heart of his brother. However, when the attack cleared, it showed that while battered, burned, and certainly not in a good mood, Kerrog was still alive and kicking.

His armor blackened, charred, and in some places, utterly eaten away by the substance that had covered it, the Fallen Archon still hovered in the air, battered, but still determined to fight to the end, no matter the bitter outcome.

Slowly, as if any movement pained him, the Fallen Leader raised his blade to an attack position, and prepared to charge once more into the battle. However, in his heart, the white armored Precursor knew that he was beaten, that there was no hope of him triumphing in this fight, short of Tarath just letting him kill him. His body burned and ached from the last Channeled attack that his adoptive sibling had unleashed, and while his foe had no idea, Kerrog knew just how badly he had been wounded. The substance had gotten into him, and it ravaged his body internally, and he was rapidly exhausting his own supplies of stored up Light Eco trying to heal himself. Not to mention that the attack had slammed into him at nearly two hundred miles per hour, and had the result of shattering several of his ribs, once of which had pierced a lung.

Still, if this was to be his end, he would die a warrior, not begging for his life.

With a cry that let those around him know that this was a last, doomed attack, he rushed the Reaver that had bested him. Much to his dismay, not only was his attack blocked, but Tarath didn't even bother to come through with a counter from his warp blade. Instead, the Praetor pushed against the Archon's weapon, using it to stage his move, and then he flipped about, slamming both of his feet into Kerrog's back, sending the Fallen Archon plummeting towards the desert below.

He hit so hard that he bounced back up into the air, then he hit once more, and lay still, his world growing dark.

* * *

The battle had raged on even after that, the Fallen Ones simply refusing to surrender, some going so far as to take their own lives with what little strength they had left, rather than surrender to their foes. However, they eventually managed to convince one last group of Fallen warriors to give up, which when combined with various survivors from around the battlefield (Kerrog actually being among these), brought the total number of prisoners up to about seven thousand, give or take a couple hundred. 

But the fight had not been without its causalities on their side as well. More than half of the soldiers who had gone into battle that day had not returned, and much time was spent in the desert, cremating the remains of those who had not lived.

Once that was done, there was the small matter of dealing with surviving Fallen. A mass trial was held, and different people argued for different things. Some of the warriors, Tarath and Phoenix among them, had pleaded for mercy on behalf of those they had captured, saying that while the war had been fierce, that they should now 'bury the hatchet' and try to patch up what was left of their civilization, and perhaps, they might still accomplish what they had hoped to.

However, their voices had been in the minority. Others, maddened by the loss of friends and family, had demanded the highest and harshest punishment available, saying that the Fallen Ones had surrendered their right to any mercy long ago. These were the ones that won out in the end, despite pleas from others that such hatred would only beget more hatred, and the sentence had been passed down.

Kerrog and the other Fallen Ones were to be exiled from Gaia, cursed to never again set foot upon the planet of their birth. Furthermore, their names were to be forever struck out of the history of their race, and it would be as if they never existed.

To a warrior, whose greatest goal in life was to do something worthy of remembrance, there could be no higher insult, no greater humiliation, and Tarath knew in his heart, that this would spawn some very bitter memories among the defeated.

As with all of his other memories, he could recall with infinite clarity, what happened on that particular day in his life…

* * *

They marched, their heads held high and their stance saying everything about their defiance of their sentence. They walked towards the Day Star, a massive transport ship that had been constructed for this purpose. Armed guards lined every step of the journey, and some even jeered at them, reminding them of their defeat. However, for as many as poked fun at the Fallen, there were an equal number who silently wept from behind their helmets. 

Here a brother watched his sister board the ship, knowing in his heart that he would never be able to see her again, wishing with all his soul that he could embrace her one final time before the endless vacuum of space separated them forever.

There a father and mother watched their son be herded onto the massive ship, standing stock still at attention as their child gazed up at them, knowing this would be the last time that they looked him in the eyes.

From up on a hill, the Praetors and Executor Xadec Thas watched the proceeding, all of their reactions to it different.

"This is madness…" Tarath whispered to himself. "How did it come to this?"

"They chose this path." Ariac growled, crossing his arms over his chest, his hands clinched into fists. "Have you forgotten what they would have done? This sentence is no less than they deserve."

"And what of our great ancestors that united us together in the first place?" the Reaver retorted in a bitter tone. "Did they hold grudges against the tribes that they conquered?"

"It's irrelevant." Came a weary voice, and all turned their heads to see Xadec, his head bowed, appearing to be very tired. "They have lost, and this is what the people have demanded, and as such, it shall be their fate. They have been provided with stasis chrysalises and other such necessities for a long space journey…perhaps…with some luck, they can find a world of their own, and start over there."

After that, he fell silent, as did they all, until the last member of the exiled ones came walking down the road. Clad in his armor, his bearing that of one who had been defeated, but whose fighting spirit remained unconquered, was Kerrog.

He gazed up at the seven soldiers on the hill, and Tarath noticed that Phoenix had started to break down and weep like a child. He could hardly blame him, as tears coursed their way down his face, hidden to the world by his helmet. In the gentlest manner that he could manage, the dark Praetor reached out and placed a hand upon his brother's shoulder, while keep his eyes upon their younger sibling.

The Fallen Leader stuck his hand into the air and made a fist, before crying out in a voice so loud that it was heard by all.

"Do not think that this is finished, Executor." he said, his voice full of determination. "You may have defeated us, but the war is not over yet. You will find yourselves in another conflict soon enough, and this time you will not be so lucky." He paused, and even from this distance, they could tell that his crystal blue eyes had narrowed to a glare. "And when that battle is done, we will return, and we will lead our people on to the glorious future that we deserve. Know this…"

With that, he lowered his hand, and started back towards the Day Star. It did not take him long to reach it, and when he did, he got up to the top of the loading ramp before he took one last look over his shoulder, his distance gaze settling upon his two brothers. For a brief second, he shook his head and his shoulders, slumped, before he turned and disappeared into the depths of the ship.

* * *

The Day Star had lifted off some six hours ago, and back at the capital city, Tarath found himself staring at the holo maps of several cities. Once they had been glorious monuments to the achievements of his people, and now they were nothing more than smoldering ruins, reduced to rubble by the cataclysmic war that had ravaged the planet for so many years. 

The dark Praetor sighed and bowed his head. He felt as if the walls were closing in around him, and he suddenly knew that he had to leave the city, to get away from it all, if only for a little while.

So, letting Phoenix know that he was heading off to be alone, he headed out of the residential building in which they resided, and headed for the armory and barracks. From there, it was relatively simple to acquire a Stinger, stock himself up with food, water, and enough Dark Eco filled containers for about a week, and speed out of the city. He knew not where he was heading, only that he had to get away from all the memories that kept assaulting him… memories of his two brothers and himself hanging out and playing back when they were younger, before all of this had happened.

Despite his best efforts to will away the pain of his spiritual and emotional wounds, he couldn't stop a few tears from manifesting themselves, blurring his vision as he pushed the Stinger to full throttle and tore off.

* * *

The Praetor stared up into the blackness of the lab, the images churning within his mind, forcing him to remember one of the darkest times of his life. 

Even the brief period that had followed that, which had helped him to forget the agony and nightmares of the Kinslayer War, were laced with pain and sorrow. An image appeared in his mind once more, this one of an elf, a female. Her hair was blond, and her eyes a haunting green, while there was a hesitant smile upon her face.

* * *

Half a solar system away, a white armored warrior sat in his personal quarters, his legs crossed and his eyes staring forward into nothing. 

Kerrog Losstarr's mind was amongst the clouds, as his thoughts drifted in and out of the present and the past. As always, though, the young Executor dwelled mostly upon that final climatic confrontation of the great civil war. He thought of what he had done wrong, the things that, in hindsight, he would have done differently, as such knowledge would serve him and his soldiers well as the next battle drew nigh.

His thoughts also drifted to his two brothers, and for a fleeting moment, the ice cracked. Kor had maintained very frequent communications with them initially, to let them know how his little war was going. Over time, as the Precursors and the Channelers that they tried to create were destroyed, the updates had become more sporadic. But he knew that Phoenix was dead… and Tarath worse than that. The noble warrior that had been his adoptive sibling had been turned into some sort of freakish abomination that nature had never meant to exist.

Artificial limbs and other such extremities were nothing new to the Ancients, and even Ragais, his own third in command, had a cybernetic right arm, a souvenir from when a Dark Eco attack had disintegrated his original. But to reconstruct a warrior to such a degree, to where the machines were literally all that was keeping him alive, all that still enabled him to use his powers…

His brother had been robbed of the dignity that came with death, robbed of his eternal rest that any true warrior deserved after giving his or her life for their cause.

His azure eyes narrowed dangerously, a glare coming into them that could have blasted a hole straight through battle plate, and a burning rage came over him. He knew that Executor Xadec had been responsible for what had been done to his sibling, knew that the leader of the Precursors was the person who had trapped Tarath in a hellish form of death in life, and he vowed then and there that he would see the Ancient dead for that crime…and that he would find a way to destroy his brother as well.

Tarath had been a worthy foe and someone who, despite everything, that he still loved with all his heart. Killing him, no, releasing him from his twisted and perverse existence upon this mortal plane would be the kindest thing that he could do for his sibling.

The Reaver had earned his right to rest and peace… and the gods as his witnesses, Kerrog would see to it that he got that.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, going to stop it right there. 

Hope you have found this chapter to your liking, and that I have not screwed it up in some horrible manner. Next week, Jak and company will be back in the picture, and have a tango with the Marauders, will be heading back to Haven.

I have to cut this short, so if you have any ideas, comments, constructive criticisms, or even want to flame me, feel free to do so.

Thank you all very much for your time, and I hope you have a great week.


	18. An Angel’s Wrath, a Demon’s Fury: Part O

Okay, sorry about the delay folks, school has been hell of late, and I have had a lot of academic bowl stuff to practice for so I haven't been bale to write as much as I would have liked to.

That said, I want tot hank everyone who took time out of their lives to review, and for those of you who haven't reviewed, but have read this story, I thank you and hope I haven't caused any form of mental scarring.

Oh yes, I want to extend my sincerest thanks to CopyCat87, a member of Deviant Art, who has been kind enough to draw some excellent stuff of Kage, which I would really recommend that you check out.

The drawings can be found here.

http/ copycat87. deviantart. com /gallery/

Lawyers: I own nothing save those beings that are products of my own demented mind.

That said, hope you enjoy.

* * *

&

* * *

An Angel's Wrath, a Demon's Fury: Part One

The large Wastelander leaned out of the tunnel, aiming his assault rifle down at the Marauders that were below him, before opening up with a fully automatic burst of fire. Bullets flew from the barrel, scything through the air, and brining several of the enemy troopers down. However, much to Kleiver's dismay, others were merely wounded by his little rampage, and still others escaped harm altogether as their armor managed to hold up to his shots, the bullet ricocheting harmlessly off of the steel.

He was forced to duck back as retaliatory fire that was ten times what his had been came flying back at him. Lead pinged off of the rock, some of it flying disturbing close to his head, and the burly elf decided that it would perhaps be best if he were to beat a hasty retreat back to the depths of the tunnel and try to hole up with the rest of his comrades in arms.

The attack had started less than an hour ago, and already the situation was starting to look rather bleak. With Valthos gone, there had been no clear leader, which when combined with the strange weaponry (apparently of Precursor origins, if the energy type was what he assumed it was), and a radio jammer of some variety, meant that they had quickly been cut off into small, desperate squads trying to hold out against an enemy that was vastly superior in the numbers department.

Several, his group included, had been able to break free, and they had pretty much congregated themselves in the tunnels that led to the throne room of Spargus, logically thinking that they would be able to easily fortify the area. He had volunteered to try and hold the fort while the others busied themselves with entrenchment.

As he retreated back down the tunnel, he frowned, realizing that this was the sole defensive fortification that they had left under their control, and that anyone else caught outside was going to be in for a really bad time.

The burly Wastelander muttered an oath as he reloaded his assault rifle, wondering how much worse this day was going to get.

* * *

Outside of where Kleiver and company were attempting to hole themselves up and buy time for some form of intervention, from where they could really care less, a massive, armor clad elf watched the battle, if it could really be called that anymore, unfold.

Scourge smiled from behind his helmet as he gazed in the direction of the Spargus Monestary, where his troops had broken into early on. As before, they were under specific orders not to harm the monks, as they were of no use to him dead. Anyone else was fair game though, and some of the bodyguards and wounded had been killed already, while the others would either be hauled off to slave away in their own factories, or tortured until their throats got to hoarse to scream anymore, after which they would be dealt with in a more permanent fashion.

A line of prisoners passed him, monks from the Monastery. One in particular stood out, a female that stared at him, her crimson eyes narrowed to slits of fury. For moment, even he, the leader of the Marauders, an elf that had killed more Wastelanders than anyone had bothered to keep track of, was taken aback. There was something there, something in those eyes that spoke of some hidden power, of something that dwelt beneath the surface of this apparently frail looking girl.

There was more to this one that met the eye… he'd have to remember that.

Scourge was brought back to reality by one of his field commanders trotting out towards him. He nodded, and the elf delivered his message.

"We've secured the entire city except for their interior tunnels, my lord." The man replied, his tone upbeat and full of triumph. "What are your orders regarding them?"

"No need to waste any more of our men storming into a vipers' nest." His superior said, crossing his arms and smiling once again. "Leave a guard around all of the entrances; we'll starve them out of their little hole."

"That could take some time, my lord…" The other elf responded, and his leader nodded, before snapping his fingers.

"Then bring a few of the normal prisoners around there, and start torturing them. We'll see how long they stay holed up when they can hear their 'friends' pleading for mercy."

His subordinate smiled in a wicked manner, before proceeding to carry out that order. As for Scourge himself, he turned and headed back to the vehicles that were already starting to leave. He had gotten his victory, and now it was time for him and his men and women to enjoy the spoils of their success.

* * *

They had spent some time just sitting around their vehicles, reminiscing about times past, until the light of day began to wane and fade into the background, while the stars began to come out and the temperature began to drop.

"Its getting dark, we should be heading back." Sig stated, rising from his seat across from where his old friend was.

Damas merely nodded silently, still pondering about how he would react the next time he saw Jak…the dark elf that he now knew to be his son. It was a puzzle, really, and he didn't know what to make of it in all actuality. Part of him wished nothing more than to embrace the young warrior the next time that he laid eyes upon him, while another part, the irrational fear that always crept up into the minds of people when in a situation such as this, worried and fretted over what the Ascended Channeler would think of him, knowing that he was the man who had sent so many to their deaths, caused so much suffering due to his own shortsightedness. What would be Jak's own reaction? What would he do if and when he found out the truth of the Sand King, that Valthos and Damas were one in the same?

He sighed, and scratched the side of his head still not entirely sure what he should do.

It was then that a far more pressing matter made itself known to him.

"Kleiver, for the love of the Ancients, come in." he heard Sig say, and he turned to face the burly Wastelander. "This isn't funny at all!"

"What's going on?" Damas inquired, cocking his head to one side.

"I can't raise Kleiver, or anyone else for that matter." Sig responded, looking over his shoulder to his old comrade, a frown present on his face.

"You think it could be interference from something? A storm perhaps?" the ruler of Spargus ventured, rubbing his chin and tapping his boot on the sand.

"Sensors didn't pick up any indication of a storm brewing when I checked em before I left to find you." Sig said with a shake of his head. "One could have started up, but I think that our dear quartermaster would have given us the heads up." He frowned once more, his old combat instincts kicking up. "I don't like this one bit."

"Neither do I." Damas muttered, before looking up at his friend. "Let's go."

"One sec, old buddy." Sig told him as he went over to his Gila Stomper and reached into the drivers area, before pulling out a fair sized bag and tossing it to the Sand King.

He caught it with ease, and opened it. Inside were canisters and vials filled with Eco of various kinds.

"Reloads for your belt, courtesy of the Haven City black market, thought you might need some after all this time." The armored elf told him, getting a nod of thanks from his ruler.

Damas paused only to reload his belt, and to secure the bag with the remainder of the vials, before mounting up on his Sidewinder, and tearing off through the desert back to Spargus, with Sig hot on his heels.

* * *

Sig and Damas would not be alone in their concern for the Wastelander city, as Jak, Daxter and Keira also had little luck in raising a hailing from Spargus. All of them hardened by years of surviving in Haven City during its darkest time, they also had their sixth senses kicking in and telling them that something was very, very wrong with this situation.

Thus, they stopped their scout bikes at the edge of a rocky ridge that stood between them and the desert city, before dismounting and carefully making their way over the wind sharpened boulders.

They saw the smoke before they saw the town, and the three of them exchanged glances, before picking up the pace to what would almost be considered reckless, considering what it was that they were treading over. It did not take them long to reach the edge of the peak, and as they looked down upon the sandy waste below them, their jaws dropped and their eyes bulged.

Spargus City was burning, smoke rising up above the mountain that the town was built into.

Without wasting a second, both elves turned their visor binoculars to a maximum zoom, magnifying the battleground some thirty times, and they felt fear begin to well up inside of them.

The massive, steel reinforced walls of the Wastelander city had enough holes to make it look like someone had taken a colossal shotgun to them, and the enormous city gates had been blown clean off their running tracks so that they were incapable of being closed. That was about all that they could see from their current position, but they had little doubt that the devastation did not stop there, and that the entire city had been laid to waste.

Anger quickly began to replace that fear, as both Ascended Channelers looked to each other, reaching a mutual decision without even having to speak it. Turning, they bolted back to their Sidewinders, and upon reaching them, made a beeline for Spargus, rage boiling in their blood.

Within the depths of Jak's mind, Kage's eyes flashed a slightly brighter shade of red, and oni bared his fangs menacingly, clenching and unclenching his fists as if he held something within them.

* * *

Five minutes was all that it took for them to reach the area before the gates of the city, and as they had drawn close, they had realized that they were not alone. About half a quarter of a mile away, they could see the dust plume generated by another Sidewinder, and the distinctive shape of Sig's dune buggy as they too roared towards the city.

The faster of the two vehicles drew closer, and the trio saw that it was Valthos upon it, his cloth mask covering his face as it always did. However, even from this distance, they could see the raw hatred that burned in his eyes.

They linked up just before they entered the gates, and formed a roughly triangular formation with the bikes, while Sig came up from the rear, riddling with some controls and placing the massive, machine gun turret upon the top of the Gila Stomper under his control.

The Marauders that had been left behind to lay siege to the last of the beleaguered defenders (and try to lure them out with the screams of their comrades) heard them coming, and to their credit, had quite a welcome wagon ready for the newly found company. However, they hadn't counted on said newcomers to be an elite soldier, a pair of Ascended Channelers, and one very much pissed off Spargian king.

Like a certain quartet of Horsemen, Jak and the others flew around the final corner between themselves and the mainstay of the Marauders that remained. In a flash, weapons were drawn, and the air was filled with gunfire.

The Marauders still had several vehicles present as well, including one of the ones that had been outfitted with a Precursor weapon. None present would have realized that a weapon of this power was meant merely to be a point defense cannon for a Juggernaut, as the firepower of it had reduced several stone buildings to rubble. Thus, when the first shot form this thing was fired, leaving a fifteen foot crater behind it, Valthos was quick to realize the danger that it posed, especially to Sig's slower moving buggy. Thus, he was quick to come up with an ingenious and shocking means of dealing with it.

In one hand, he held his gunblade, and with the other, he dispensed a couple of vials of Red Eco, crushing them and absorbing them into himself. A crimson glow came over him, and heedless of the bullets that were flying at him, he twisted his Sidewinder to where it was about to wipe out and go sliding away from himself. At the same time, he jammed his weapon into the ground, using it as an anchor and nearly ripping his arm right off in the process.

Using his increased strength and the forward momentum of his bike, he tightened his leg's grip upon the seat, and twisted about, bringing the scouting vehicle in a quick three hundred and sixty degree spin.

Centrifugal force picked up at this point, lifting the bike up about a foot off of the ground, and as soon as it was about to face the vehicle with the point defense turret mounted upon it, Valthos released his hold upon the seat. This had the eye popping and jaw dropping result of turning a four hundred pound vehicle into an impromptu missile flying towards the gunner at more than sixty miles per hour.

The Marauder in the gunner's seat felt his eyes widen as he saw what exactly was streaking towards him. In an instinctive action, he pulled the trigger, and a burst of Eco flew from the barrel of his weapon…just as Valthos had planned. The beam hit, and the Sidewinder exploded.

The Marauder who was the target of this attack apparently lacked even a rudimentary knowledge of the laws of physics, as if he had, he would never have fired that shot, and would have let the bike slam into his weapon. As it was, the Sidewinder went up in a blaze of glory some twenty feet away from him, and when something like that explodes, it tends to throw shrapnel in all directions.

He never even had a chance to scream before a rather large chuck of metal whizzed right through his neck, taking his head right off.

The others, while very much amazed by what they had just witnessed, kept their wits about them and didn't stop their assault, with Jak and Keira streaking towards the largest group they could see. Several raised their weapons at the duo, only to find a bizarre combination of Dark Eco lightning and a ray of Light Eco streaking in towards them. They had just enough time to let out screams of surprise and denial, before the attacks hit home, the lightning coursing over about six of them while the explosion from Keira's attack claimed another half dozen.

After that, they were upon the remainder of them, who were far too stunned by what they had just seen to even raise their weapons in defense of themselves. Almost simultaneously, the two Ascended Channelers reached back and drew their weapons from their holsters. Jak leaned over as he sped by a Marauder, lashing out and smiling as Kitetsu gutted him like a fish as he passed by. As for his soul mate, she thrust her naginata forward. Her speed, when combined with the Vibrium edge of Masamune, enabled her to easily impale one of the desert elves right through the heart.

Not pausing for a second (if one didn't count the horizontal spin that Keira used to rid her weapon of the dying elf that was stuck on the end of it) they continued their little rampage.

Behind them, the ground popped and exploded as snipers that had been positioned a little closer to the entrances of the tunnel system took aim and fired at the two of them. However, a moment or so later, they realized they had made a rather fatal error in revealing their location, as Sig, noticing where the shots were coming from, promptly trained the massive machine gun on the top of his buggy at them. Seconds later, the area became clouded with dust as the fifty caliber slugs ripped into their positions…and themselves as well.

As for Valthos, he was quick to recover from his little display, and assimilated some Blue Eco into himself, before dashing around the other way from the rest of the group, intending to deal with the Marauders that might be on the other side of town, hopefully in time to meet the others in the rough middle, which would result in a rather nasty hammer and anvil type deal.

Moving like a blur, he came upon a group of five such Marauders, on the ground before them, was a bloody and battered Wastelander, and it didn't take more than a millisecond for the Sand King to put two and two together. Even as a bellow of rage left his throat, catching the attention of the desert elves, he leveled his gunblade and squeezed off a couple of rounds.

The Marauders in question here were not stupid, and had heard the gunfire from a few moments earlier. However, they thought that this meant that the cries of the captured Wastelanders were finally proving to be too much for their holed up comrades, and that their enemies had decided to show themselves. If one wished to get technical that could very well have been the end result of their tactics. However, what they had stirred up was not exactly something that they were prepared to deal with, not to mention that their attacker was not coming from the direction that they had expected, resulting in them being even more ill prepared for the attack.

The two bullets that Valthos fired were dead on target, flying through the visors of a pair of Marauders, and causing their brains to pop like melons as the resulting stress from the slugs literally tore their heads apart. Their corpses fell to the ground, the helmets and the remains of the heads that used to occupy them rolling along the ground.

The others readied their melee weapons, but their attempts to protect themselves were in vain. Valthos' speed fueled by the Blue Eco that he had assimilated into himself and the rage that boiled in his blood, was far greater than anything that they could ever hope to match, and they died quickly.

The ruler of Spargus paused just long enough to see to the Wastelander that they had been busy torturing. Breathing a sigh of relief upon discovering that the man was alive for the moment, and not about to die from his injuries, he sped towards the rallying point.

He met up with a few more small groups of Marauders while rushing towards the others, and dispatched them with the same ease that he had their comrades, regretting only the fact that he couldn't afford to drag their deaths out as long as he would have liked to, considering what they had done to his people.

As he rounded the final bend between him and the others, he came across a scene that reminded him of the retreat from the Metal Head Nest, at least as far as the confusion among the attackers were concerned.

Jak and Keira had both dismounted from their Sidewinders, and were busy using both their weapon skills and Channeling abilities to slaughter the Marauders, who had not exactly counted upon such foes when they had agreed to stay behind. Sig was also busy, his Gila Stomper splitting their forces in two…literally in some cases, and one of their dune buggies that had tried to get in the way to slow the Wastelander down had been given a harsh lesson of why small cars don't pull out and stop in front of big one. The terrified screams of the Marauder that had been behind the wheel (coming from the drivers side area of the grill upon which the smaller vehicle was implanted) were like a morbid music to his ear.

The machine gun turret on top of the large buggy was also busy, as several Marauders found themselves torn to shreds by the high velocity rounds as they ripped through them.

Not wanting to miss out on any of the avenging, the Sand King bolted towards where Jak and Keira were.

As he moved towards them, he watched as another pair of their enemies threw themselves at the husband and wife duo. In a flash, Jak had used Kitetsu and a phantom blade that he had summoned to take the head off of his foe, while Keira planted the butt end of Masamune into her opponent. The Light Eco Crystal penetrated the steel armor that the Marauder wore, and stabbed into his gut. As he recoiled, she deftly reversed her grip upon the naginata, and quickly lashed out, slicing into the lower left area of the Marauder's chest, and exiting out around his right shoulder blade. All but cut in half, the desert elf fell, his body twitching in its death throes.

Within two minutes, it was all over, and the Marauders lay dead, save for three that had been subdued for the purpose of questioning. After that, the quintet (as Daxter had somehow managed to hang onto Jak's shoulder throughout the fight) rushed over to where an injured mass of Wastelanders were, their bodies bruised and bleeding from the maltreatment that they had experienced at their captors hands.

"What do you think, Keir?" Jak inquired of his wife, looking over to her as she bent down over one particularly mangled elf. "Think you might be able to heal them?"

Keira had spent a brief amount of time learning to harness and control her new founded Light Eco abilities, one of which was that she was now able to heal others beside herself. However, she had yet to practice upon a target that truly needed the aid.

"I'll give it a shot." The tech head muttered, her voice lacking its usual confidence. "But I can't guarantee that it'll work."

"Better than just leaving them to die." Sig muttered, before gesturing up to the mountain. "You guys work on getting our boys and girls patched up, I'm going scope out the tunnels and the throne room, see how many of our people we still have left."

The burly Wastelander proceeded to do just that, while Keira concentrated on healing the wounded. Jak and Valthos, meanwhile, trotted over to the three captives they had spared. They were not bound by any means, but they were smart enough to realize that if they tried to run they probably wouldn't get farther than twenty feet before Death claimed them.

"Talk if you want to live." Jak growled to one of them, his knuckles turning white as he gripped Kitetsu fiercely, rage boiling throughout his blood.

"Forget it…" One Marauder said.

That was as far as he got before Valthos lashed out and made the masked elf a head shorter than he had been a few seconds ago.

"Bad answer." The Sand King snarled, before turning to face the next captive, who looked considerably less defiant after witnessing what had just happened to his comrade. "Now, what happened here, and what are your people planning to do now?"

The second one, just as suicidal as his comrade, tried lunging at the ruler of Spargus. There was a loud bang a second or so later, and he fell back, a nice sized hole in his head from where the slug had torn through.

Watching the death of his comrades had apparently loosened the tongue of the third, and he promptly began to sing like a canary. From what they were able to gather, the Marauders had attacked the city with vehicles armed with Precursian weapons that had been scrounged up over the past several years. The prisoner also mentioned the captured monks that Jak had been sent to look for and that they were the ones who had (under extreme tortures that made a certain Dark Eco demon all but foam at the mouth) finally told them how to get them working.

That was about as much as Jak caught, as he though it prudent for him to leave, lest he do something rash and cut off their only source of information at the moment. As it was, he went to scope out how his soul mate was coming with healing the others.

As it was, she was doing a rather fine job. She was dealing with a single victim at the moment, carefully placing her hands upon his wounded chest and letting the Light Eco flow from herself and into him. After a few seconds, the wounds began to heal and close, with not even scars left to be seen. However, as they looked at the person that she was healing, Jak and Daxter both stopped short, their jaws agape.

It was Seth.

"I don't believe it." Jak muttered, getting down on one knee and giving the Wastelander a good look.

"Poor guy just can't seem to catch a break." Daxter remarked, shaking his head and 'tsking' slightly.

"I'm just glad they decided to play with me before finishing me off." The lanky warrior said, slowly opening his eyes, his breathing still a little uneven. He gave Keira look, and muttered a quiet thank you, before climbing up to his knees.

"Take it easy, you're healed, but that doesn't mean that you're in tip top shape just yet." Keira admonished him. "You did lose a lot of blood."

"I'll bear that in mind." He said, before trotting off, probably going to salvage what he could.

"You know that guy?" the aqua haired elf asked her husband and friend, looking at them as they jogged over to the next Wastelander.

"Long story." Was the response that she got, to which she merely nodded, before putting her full attention on the Wastelander she was trying to patch up.

* * *

Some hours had passed, and all the survivors had been healed and the infantry equipment that was left had been salvaged. The sole surviving Marauder was left tied up in the tunnels, as they'd put off deciding what should be done with him until after they'd solved their more pressing problems, one of which had been trying to stop Sig from going postal once he'd found out about Seem and the other monks, especially considering what had happened to the other captured females. Fortunately, Valthos had been able to calm him down, pointing out that if they blindly rushed their enemy's fortified home, they'd be cut down in an instant. The Sand King had begun to pace back and forth then, muttering under his breath and doubtless trying to come up with a feasible strategy.

"So, have one yet?" Jak inquired a while later, crossing his arms over his chest, an unseen frown upon his face as he mulled over the situation.

"I think so." Valthos replied, a burning rage in his eyes as he looked at the dark elf. "We're going to have to storm the Marauder Fortress, and hit them with their pants down."

"Just how do you propose that we do that?" Daxter grumbled, staring down at the sand. "I seem to recall Seth over there telling us that the place is built in the middle of an oasis, and I don't believe that our vehicles are capable of floating."

"Oh, we've got a little something cooked up that Scourge and his lackeys probably won't see coming." Sig informed them, his voice fully of icy poison, undoubtedly because of the unknown fate of his sister. "Let's see what vehicles we've got left and we'll figure things out from there.

* * *

They'd snooped around the garage, and found, much to the relief of Valthos and Sig, that the Slam Dozer had been left alone, along with a hand full of other buggies, including two of Kleiver's green ones that could jump. This, when combined with the Gila Stomper, the Sidewinders that Jak and Keira had been using, and a few Marauder craft that were functional, brought their total vehicle count up to somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty two.

"Alright, we've got our inventory, what now?" Keira asked, leaning against one of the garage walls.

"The plan's right back here." Sig said, heading back to the back end of the garage, and pressing a seemingly inconspicuous area of the wall.

The wall slid back, revealing a chamber that was fairly deep and tall. Jak and Keira took a step forward, not entirely certain at first how a bunch of wooden beams were going to help them breach one of the most hardened fortresses on the continent. That was, until they saw the strange, plastic barrels that were behind the beams, strapped to them from the looks of it.

"Is that…" Jak ventured, looking over to Valthos.

"While Sig was in Haven City, I arranged for him to make some supply runs back and forth to us." The Sand King responded, a grim smile visible in his eyes. "One of the things that I had him return with was some lumber and other such materials needed for a pontoon bridge."

"You've been planning on taking the Marauders out for a while, haven't you?" Daxter muttered, wide eyed over what appeared to be the keystone of the plan.

"Indeed," the ruler of Spargus remarked, "I just could never figure out when a good time to invade them would be. However, they think that we are broken at the moment, and as such, their guard will likely be down."

"So what's the whole plan calling for?" Jak asked, cocking his head to the side slightly.

"Basically, we use the Slam Dozer to plough the road." Valthos stated, gesturing to the massive desert vehicle. "The stone portion of the Marauder's bridge is wide enough for two vehicles to pass, so that they can deploy their own forces more rapidly." He paused for a second, looking over to the elf that he knew now as his son, pride swelling within him as he realized how cool the boy was, despite the gravity of the situation.

"Once we've gotten close enough, the Slam Dozer's rocket pods will be able to take out the moving parts of the draw bridge, and Kleiver and Seth will swing by us, and jump the gap, towing the pontoon bridges behind them. Once those are secured…"

"We've got ourselves a foot through the door." Keira said a slightly feral tone present in her voice.

"Exactly," Valthos said with a snap of his fingers. "Now, everyone grab whatever gear you can, and let's move out!"

* * *

Victory fires burned and his soldiers laughed and feasted, drunk on their triumph over their long hated foes. Scourge himself sat out in the open, smiling behind his steel helmet as he thought of all they had accomplished today. Indeed, it would be a day that his people would never forget. Now, with their greatest rivals out of the way, they would be free to continue to gather more Precursor artifacts and weapons, and with the eventual 'cooperation' of the Spargus monks all but guaranteed, it was feasible that they would become powerful enough to challenge even greater foes. Perhaps, in a year or so, they would even be able to make an assault upon Haven City.

For now though, he allowed his forces to bask in their success, and listen to the screams of the captured as they were used for 'entertainment.' A wicked chuckle escaped his throat, and he looked over to that female monk that they had captured, the one with the strange, crimson eyes. She had been stripped of her armor and her headgear, and her close cropped black hair contrasted rather well with the strange facial tattoos that she wore. Judging from the way that the other captives looked to her, he had to assume that she was very high on the totem pole back in Spargus, perhaps the leader of the order. If that proved to be the case, then he would try to be nice at first, to coerce her cooperation by telling her how much easier that would be for her fellows.

In truth, such cooperation would simply make things much easier for him, as it would get her people to work that much faster, but if that failed, as she appeared to be the stubborn type, then he could resort to torturing her and the others until they fell into line.

As for Seem herself, she felt the gears of her mind whirring, trying to figure out some way in which they might be able to get out of this mess, preferably while leaving a nice causality list behind them. She did not take kindly to watching her comrades and friends be put through unspeakable agonies to satisfy these barbaric people, and she vowed that given the chance, she would rip Scourge's heart right out of his chest. Still, she would have to be patient, as rash action would not help anyone.

An opportunity would present itself soon enough.

* * *

It was some hours later when they finally moved over the ridge that was around the Marauder Fortress. They had moved slowly, as they did not wish to risk harm to their only means of getting over to the other side, and that in the cool, quiet night of the desert, that the roar of an engine at full throttle could be heard for quite some distance.

His visor set to its night vision mode and at the maximum magnification, Jak stood at the top of the ridge, looking down over the fortress. He thought he could see the remains of a victory party of some sort in the central courtyard. However, it had gone quite long ago.

A simple thought was all that was required to change the visor over to its heat sensitive mode of viewing, and the contrasts stood out sharply at this time of the day. He continued to stare, trying to get a good count of the number of guards that were still on patrol.

"I get twenty, what about you?" came the voice of his soul mate, which did not leave the inside of his helmet.

"About the same." he responded, pulling the zoom back and looking over to her.

Her every stance radiated a quiet, predatory anger, and he had little doubt that any Marauder that had the rotten luck to run across her would be in for a world of pain before Death finally came to claim them. No doubt, the destruction of Spargus had hit home with her very much, bringing up memories of Sandover. What he didn't realize was that she recalled not only that, but the strange place that she saw in her dreams, the one that was ripped apart by the vicious Metal Heads.

As had been the case in both of those places, she was incapable of preventing the tragedies, but unlike those two, in this case, she had the opportunity to avenge those that had fallen.

"There could still be some more that haven't fallen asleep yet." Valthos growled as he came up from behind them, his eyes narrowed.

"Then we'll have to do something about those ones before we launch our assault upon them, won't we?" Keira said, rubbing a gauntleted finger along the chin portion of her helmet.

"I'll do it." Jak volunteered immediately.

"That's crazy!" Kleiver hissed quietly, a look of absolute disbelief upon his face.

"You wanna bet, old buddy?" Sig inquired, smirking wickedly as he recalled all the things he knew the dark elf could do.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Valthos said, and he was unable to keep his gaze from softening and letting a note of concern slip into his normally iron hard voice.

The response that he got was for the Ascended Channeler to suddenly begin to become transparent, and in a matter of a couple of seconds, all present watched him become nothing but a slight shimmer, invisible to all but the most trained eye.

"Are you kidding?" he remarked, a humorless laugh in his tone. "They'll never see me coming."

The Sand King nodded in a somber manner, silently praying that the boy didn't get himself in over his head…then he remembered the little split personality that he carried inside of him, and he felt that fear become lessened significantly.

"Hey, Jak!" came the voice of Seth, and the shimmer wavered slightly.

"What?" the Ascended Channeler inquired.

"If you're going to bust up those scumbags, use this." He said, and he suddenly tossed something at the dark elf.

Jak caught it easily, and stared at it intently for a couple of seconds before the 'field' that covered him when he cloaked himself also enveloped it. It appeared to be a simple bit of metal wire, about two feet long, with two wooden handles that were at either end.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Never really thought up a name for it." The lanky Wastelander replied with a shrug. "As for what you do with it. You make a loop with it, then you take it and slip it around the guy's head from behind, get it down around his throat, and then you…" he trailed off, pretending to pull the two handle like parts away from each other, leaving little to the imagination about just what this particular little stealth weapon was supposed to do.

"Thanks." He said, before turning back around. "Don't start your attack until I've already gotten them spooked."

"How will we know when that is?" Valthos inquired.

"I'll contact you through the comms." Jak told him, securing Seth's weapon as he spoke.

"When they attacked," Kleiver said a frown upon his face, "they used some kind of communications disruptor to keep us from talking to each other, suppose they crank it up again?"

"In that case, wait until you know they've found me out." Was the response he received.

"And we will know that how?" the quartermaster asked.

"Cause all fierfeking hell is going to break loose."

'**_Literally.' _**Kage remarked, a rare, bloodthirsty smile upon his demonic visage.

With that, the dark elf started towards the fortress.

"Be careful, Jak." Keira said, her voice quiet over the private comm. Channel that they had with each other.

"I will be." He told her, before turning his thoughts to the mission that was at hand.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, stopping there, and just to warn you, the next chapter will likely be very, very bloody in a horror/slasher type way, as Jak and Kage are going to go absolutely postal on these guys.

Can't really think of anything else that might be relevant, so I'll just say that if you wish to leave a comment, a constructive criticism, idea (I could use some Light Eco abilities), or even a flame, feel more than free to do so.

Thank you all, and have a great week.


	19. An Angel’s Wrath, a Demon’s Fury: Part T

(Runs out, panting)

Hello again, everyone, and once again, I apologize for the two week delay, but school's been a pain. However, after this, things should be getting back to normal, so I should be able to write more often and get these chapters out on time.

As a warning, this chapter is very, very violent, and I caution you to read at your own risk.

Also, you can all expect to see Keira's AC form in this battle, and I hope that everyone finds it to their liking. Special thanks to **animedragongirl** for her help in coming up with the initial form, and to **DarkStarPhoenix** for further refinement. Also, there will be something of a surprise from one of the characters near the end of the chapter, just to warn you.

Oh yeah, I want to extend my thanks to Aura for her review, as I could not respond due to the ineptitude of my e-mail account. A heart felt thank you to everyone else who reviewed anonymously, and whom I cannot directly reply to because the administration is on some really back crack at the moment.

Lawyers: me no own, so you no sue!

That said, here is the next chapter, (crosses fingers)

* * *

&

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An Angel's Wrath, a Demon's Fury: Part Two

The Marauder guard paced back and forth along the length of the battlement, his mind only half upon his duty. In truth, it was only by bad luck that he was up there, as Scourge had wanted to keep a few people on watch duty just in case any Wastelanders that had happened to be out and about at the time of the attack should drop by and try to stir something up. Thus, he cursed the fact that he had been unable to participate in the greatest victory celebration to take place within this fortress in living memory.

Unbeknownst to the guard, his luck was about to get a whole lot worse than it already was.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a bit of movement, ad he turned to face it, lowering his weapon at the same time. However, he found, much to his surprise, that the only thing he could see was one of his compatriots, about a hundred or so feet down the length of the wall. Cocking an eyebrow, the Marauder sentry frowned, and brought his thumb and forefinger up to rub his chin.

Along the way, he felt them brush something that didn't feel like it was a part of his gear, and a look of confusion came over him.

It was a look that would be forever etched into the face of the man as his unseen assailant yanked on both end of the wire that he had just looped around the guard's throat. The monofilament cord dug into the tender flesh of the elf's neck, slicing through skin, muscle, and an instant later, bone, as the cord did its silent and deadly work. This resulted in a very efficient, if more than a little messy, decapitation.

The body hit the ground, and the head rolled against the wall. Just as Jak had anticipated, the other sentry heard it, and turned to face the noise. Zooming in with his night vision, the dark elf could see the other Marauder's face change from one of confusion and curiosity to one of horror, and he smirked at the knowledge that his enemy couldn't see him in this low light.

Jak would never know if there was simply no alarm system to begin with, or if it was some sort of morbid curiosity that drew his prey nearer to him, rather than raising Kain and alerting everyone else to the fact that here was something amiss going on. Nonetheless, he was silently grateful and mentally encouraged and enticed the Marauder sentry to come forward and meet his doom.

The other elf proceeded to do just that, leveling his rifle and slowly, but steadily, walking over to where his comrades body lay on the dusty stone. Jak took a slight step to one side, in hopes of better positioning himself for the next killing blow, and because the pool of blood from the body was creeping nearer to him, and it wouldn't do to be leaving bloody footprints wherever he went.

Trembling visibly, the other guard finally got over to where the corpse was, and bent down, his breathing rate bordering on hyperventilation and his movements jerky.

Having tucked away the cord into his utility belt, (as he wanted to add a little variety to the slaughter that he was about to unleash) the Ascended Channeler reached out, grabbed the guard around the head with both hands, and before the man could even began to struggle, twisted his neck in such a manner that even an owl would have found itself wincing.

The dead man's eyes now gazing blindly in a direction that they were never meant to, the dark elf slowly lowered the corpse, and then began to make his way towards the far end of the battlement, where a door that led deeper into the compound was located. He would have to move fast, as it would only be a matter of time before the bodies were discovered and the Marauders put two and two together.

* * *

He had not traveled very far into the depths of the Marauder Fortress when he stumbled across what appeared to be some sort of barracks. Judging from the distance separating the doors, the rooms would have been about the right size, and he could see the logical sense in having them located this close to the outer defenses. Behind the helmet of his armor, the dark elf smirked once more, already knowing what he was going to do. He got up next to the first door, and leaped upwards. The way in which the supports were built into the fairly low ceiling made it easy for him to brace himself with three of his limbs. Then with a surprising amount of agility, the young warrior drew Kitetsu from its scabbard, and leaned down, before rapping sharply upon the door twice. A muttered reply on the other side and a flash on his motion detector let him know that he had succeeded in getting the occupant's attention, and he quickly pulled himself back up. 

The door opened, and the Marauder stuck his head out of the door.

"What?" he growled, his tone that of someone nursing a rather severe hangover.

Just as the man realized that there was no one in his immediate field of vision, the dark elf leaned back down once more, and lashed out.

Blood gushed from the stump of the elf's severed neck as the head and body fell to the floor.

Jak then sheathed Kitetsu, exhaling slightly and bracing himself for another bit of fancy acrobatics. He suddenly un-tensed his body, letting gravity take over. However, before he could hit the ground, he twisted about, reaching out and grabbing the overhang of the now open door, before swinging himself into the room.

A quick glance confirmed his earlier suspicions about multiple bunking, and saw about three other Marauders still sound asleep further away from the door. For the third time that evening, a wicked smile came over his face, and for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to enjoy the carnage he was about to bring.

All he needed to do was to remember the images of the Wastelanders as they lay upon the ground, their faces twisted into silent screams as their blood flowed upon the sand, some of them tortured almost beyond recognition. Not to mention what had happened to any females unfortunate enough to be captured, and he knew that these killings were about to become textbook cases of justifiable homicide.

He walked over to the first elf, who was still snoring soundly away. Without a moment's hesitation, he formed his hand into a knife, and angled it downward. He then thrust his hand forward, driving it into the rib cage of the sleeping man. Powered by his vampiric strength, his blow easily tore through the bone of the sternum, and he quickly curled his fingers around the prize that he sought. As the Marauder began to awaken from the pain, Jak ripped his hand back out, taking with it the other elf's still beating heart.

Watching one's heart appear to hover outside of your opened up chest can sober up even the drunkest of individuals, to say nothing of the pain that accompanied such an event. As fear and agony caused him to open his mouth to scream, the dark elf took the opportunity to shut him up with the handiest thing available.

He shoved the bloody organ into the elf's mouth.

Not pausing to admire his handiwork, Jak then marched over to the next one, who slept on, oblivious to his roommate's rather agonizing demise.

The Ascended Channeler drew his katana, and walked up next to the elf. He placed the dark blade right above the sleeping Marauder's throat, and mentally planned his swing. He then reared back, and with a single, incredibly swift stroke, split the man open from chest to groin, bisecting his heart and just about every other vital organ along the way in the process. The corpse thrashed about for a few moments, getting a good deal of blood all over the place and making a minor racket. Fortunately, the sole remaining Marauder was in dreamland. Not that being awake would have made much of a difference in the long run.

With no one else present to raise the alarm at the moment, the dark elf opted for a different form of execution. Reaching the bedside of the last one, he reached down, and yanked the man up by his hair, while allowing for his optic camouflage to fade away. Quickly bolting awake due to the pain from being held as he was, the elf had just enough time to see the mangled bodies of his comrades, and realize that there was something that did not appear to be of this world holding him up, before the dark katana hissed, and his world went dark.

As the body fell away from the man's head, the Ascended Channeler released his grip upon the hair, and let gravity take over. He then faded from sight again, and made his way over across the hall, where his rage would play itself out once again.

* * *

It was about half an hour later when a patrol came through. It consisted of a dozen or so men and women, all of whom were very much alert. They had been supposed to replace the rest of the guards and take over the watch shift. However, upon finding the two corpses, they quickly realized that there was something up. They had left some at the watch incase something should happen, and then proceeded further into the compound. Silently, they all pitied the guards from the previous shift, as when Scourge heard about this, he was not going to be happy that they had been so lax and careless with their duties. 

However, as they turned the corner and entered the first barracks area, it was all that they could do not to lose their last meals at the sight that awaited them.

Like a scene straight from a horror movie, bodies lay everywhere, and the walls were all but painted with blood. Limbs lay severed and some still twitched, and the stench of death hung in the air.

Barely able to stop himself from gagging at the sight, the leader ducked his head into the first of the bedrooms. Upon seeing what lay inside, the butchery that had gone on, he felt the bile rush up from his stomach, and he lost it.

While he was busy coughing up dinner, his patrol group spread out in an attempt to see if anyone had survived, or if they might find this monster that had rampaged through here and put an end to him. Unfortunately, all they found at first was more of the same, dismembered bodies, corpses with their heads halfway across the room, their eyes staring up in blank horror and their mouths open wide and some mangled remains that they assumed had been elves at one point in time.

However, a few seconds after their leader rejoined them, wiping stomach acid from his mouth, there was a stumbling noise, and a very fearful Marauder came out of the last dormitory. His whole body trembled as he pushed himself back away from the room on his hands, his mouth opening and shutting uselessly.

"You!" the leader called, grabbing the man's attention. "What happened here?"

Somewhat reassured by the sight of friendlies, the man seemed to get back a small amount of composure, and he managed to get himself into a standing position. However, he never took his sight off of that room that he had come from.

"I…I don't know…" he said, his voice dripping with fear. "It's a demon…whatever it is." He then dissolved into whimpers and moans, which further confused the patrol.

"What do you mean?" the leader stated, a little bit of uneasiness starting to creep into his tone.

"It's a wraith, a spirit… " the other one replied, finally taking his eyes off of the carnage that littered the room.

It happened so fast that none of them ever truly figured out what happened. One or two noticed what appeared to be a fast moving blur roll out of the doorway and come up behind the man, and he stopped blubbering instantly as an eerie, hissing noise split the air.

For a moment, all stared straight ahead, nervously leveling weapons.

A second later, the Marauder fell forward, his corpse hitting the ground and slumping in two different directions, revealing that he had been vertically bisected from the bottom up.

The group watched, horror picking at their entrails, as the man's slayer then became visible to them. As it had been with Veger, they stared into the cold, emotionless mask that made up Jak's helmet, and they felt their courage begin to desert them. However, they were a good deal braver than the Count, and some of them opened fired at the dark elf.

Flipping off to one side as the first of the bullets began to streak past him, Jak began to charge towards the group of Marauders, his slitted eyes narrowed to a hate filled glare. He threw out his left hand as he raced at them, calling upon his powers and throwing a dark bomb out at them. The orb of blackness hit the largest concentration of them, and in the narrow hallway, with no room to evade, eight of them died almost instantly, their lives snuffed out before they even had time to scream.

Upon witnessing this, the remaining four Marauders decided to try their luck at fleeing. It would be a vain effort, as the first one to turn heard that strange hissing noise again, and the next thing that she knew, she felt a white hot explosion of pain through her chest, and looking down, saw the strange assassin's blade sticking out of it. She crumpled a moment later, her vision going dark as her soul fled the corpse.

Leaping forward to catch up to the next one, Jak withdrew the monofilament cord that Seth had given to him, and effortlessly looped it around the head of the next Marauder. The man had just enough time to realize what was about to happen before the Ascended Channeler killed him, decapitating him even as he started to plead for mercy.

Lucky number three was heading full tilt for the door, screaming as he did so. However, he suddenly felt something hit him in the back and he lost his balance, pitching forward and striking his chin hard against the stone floor. Rolling over and looking down, he saw what had tripped him up: the head of the one who had just been decapitated. All sanity left the man then, and he began to whimper and cry like a child.

Leaving him alone for the moment, Jak caught up to the last of the fleeing Marauders. Throwing out his shoulder, he body checked the desert elf into the wall. He hit it hard, the breath being knocked from his lungs as he instinctively turned around to try and face his attacker. He did so just in time to receive an armored boot to the chest. So powerful was the blow, such was the fury that drove it home, that it crushed the man's chest, and turned his heart into pulp.

As the corpse slid to the ground, blood gushing from the slain elf's mouth, Jak walked over to the one who remained on the ground, whose eyes were wide with fear and who continued to whimper and stammer intelligible pleas. In response the dark elf reached out and picked the man up by the throat, holding him easily in one hand. He brought he man close, to where his nose was practically touching the Vibrium of his helmet.

"What mercy have you shown to the Wastelanders to deserve any in return?" he growled, cocking his head to the side.

The amount of fear in the man's eyes doubled in that next instant, and Jak began to apply more pressure to the man's windpipe, cutting off his supply of oxygen.

The man's struggles became frantic after that, thrashing about in the Ascended Channeler's grip, trying to pry off the vice like grip around his throat. However, he would not die of asphyxiation, as an instant later, there was a loud snapping noise, as the dark elf's grip turned his neck vertebrae into powder.

Dropping the corpse, Jak took a moment to finally pause and look around at the death and destruction that he had unleashed here. At least a hundred Marauders lay dead in their bunks, plus the patrol group, and he felt no pity, no bit of remorse for what he had unleashed.

'**_May they burn for eternity!' _**Kage growled, his rage slightly placated at the thought of what they had done, and of the Wastelanders that would doubtlessly rest easier, knowing that so many of their tormentors were now where they belonged.

'_The job's not done yet, buddy.' _Jak replied in a similar tone, _'We've got to get as many as we can before they realize what's up.' _

'**_Then we should hurry, I imagine someone will get a whiff of your work soon enough, and then it will be my turn to deal out a little justice.' _**The oni said, a feral smile coming over his face as he cracked his knuckles.

Jak remained silent, but he concurred with his alter ego, and he was soon dashing off through the corridors once again.

* * *

It was about twenty minutes later when the Marauders finally seemed to realize that there was a highly skilled killer running around inside of their little fortress. This was mostly due to the fact that one of them lived just long enough to call out a warning before the dark elf struck him down. 

Fortunately, they didn't manage to get whatever jamming device they had used before up and running, as Jak found it relatively easy to communicate with the others while he continued with his little rampage.

"I think the jig is up," he told Keira over a private comm. channel, "it's now or never, you guys."

She was quick to relay the order on to Valthos and the others, and the Wastelanders manned their vehicles, gunning their throttles and tearing down towards the Marauder Fortress, the thoughts of avenging their fallen comrades giving them courage and strength.

The trip took less than two minutes, and Keira hung back as Valthos plowed the road, stopping about halfway along the bridge unleashing the rocket pods from the Slam Dozer's arsenal. They hit the drawbridge, and the resulting explosion ripped it apart. The Ascended Channeler and the others held their cheers though, as that had just been the easy part. Kleiver and Seth roared past Valthos' huge vehicle, before spreading out to where they were running side by side with each other.

Right as they were supposed to, they activated the jumping system of their buggies, and the two green vehicles shot into the air, easily clearing the gap and coming down on the other side. The two of them back up until their rear tires were upon the edge of the gap, and then they released the locking mechanisms that kept the pontoon bridge portions sticking up into the air on the back of their vehicles (lest they damage something vital dragging them across the ground). Just as planned, the two portions fell into the water.

After that, the two quickly hoped out, and showing a nearly suicidal amount of courage, as the Marauders had figured out that they were under attack and had begun to return fire, began to secure them. That took a few seconds, during which time Valthos and the others kept up an enormous amount of suppressing fire upon the defenders, lest they realize what Kleiver and Seth were up to and gun them down.

When they had finished their jobs, they quickly informed the others, and raced back to their own vehicles.

The Marauders had a secondary gate that was designed to form a barrier in the event that the moat was ever crossed, but the Slam Dozer's dual gattling turret, which had been loaded up with flechette 'shredder' rounds for this purpose, turned it into a pile of toothpicks after about five seconds of sustained fire.

Kleiver and Seth were the first through the breach, their buggies grenade launcher weapons throwing out explosive fire at any large groups of Marauders that they could see. Behind them, the Slam Dozer came barreling in, every single weapon that it had blazing, sending out a withering fire that cut down anything in front of it.

The Marauders knew that they had to hold the courtyard of their fortress, that every single bit of defensive fire had to be coordinated to keeping their attackers bottled up and unable to get a further foothold upon them.

However, their plans were about to be derailed by something that they would never have expected to have encountered.

Keira came in, her Sidewinder screaming as she put it into a slide that actually resulted in her going underneath the Slam Dozer and coming out the other side of it. Quickly bringing it back up to a normal position, she accelerated it towards a group that was manning a large machine gun, and she smiled wickedly behind her Precursor crafted helmet as she decided that it was time these scumbags learned the true meaning of 'righteous anger.'

The group of Marauders that she was targeting were about to sight her up, when a bright flash of light caused them to have to avert their eyes form the girl. Indeed, so bright was the ensuing burst that one might have thought that a star had fallen from the sky.

It cleared a few seconds later, and everyone present saw what had occurred.

Keira hovered before them, having leapt off of her vehicle. She had transformed into something that no living being had ever seen before.

Her battle form was very different from that of her soul mate's, being not so heavily built, and not quite as tall. Her helmet still covered her face, though one could see a pair of glowing, bluish white eyes even behind the visor. Her build was also still rather humanoid in appearance, and not having Kage's triple jointed legs. Her feet were different as well, as rather than the Dark Eco demon's prehensile feet that were adept at gripping things; she possessed two large, talon-like toes that were very similar to a Precursor's when it was in its own combat form.

She did have one thing that was still very similar to that of Kage, though. One of the oin's most distinguished traits was the strange, black tattoo like marks that adorned his body. In Keira's case, though, the markings had the appearance of jeweled, draconic scales, shimmering a silvery color in the moonlight. Her hands also had claws, which were also draconic in nature, and those who saw them held little doubt that they were capable of rending flesh and armor alike.

She still had her wings, as well, though they seemed somewhat longer than they had been before. Masamune, too, had changed, growing and lengthening until it was slightly larger than her new form, about the same size as a Precursian duracon stave, while the blade glowed argent.

It short, it looked as if the heavens had just sent an avenging angel down to the mortal plane for the purpose of wiping out the stain that the Marauders represented.

Which was just what the angelic Channeler proceeded to do. She leapt at the machine gun crew, her wings spread out to carry her through the air, screaming a battle cry at the top of her lungs.

She dove towards the ground as she reached them, impaling one upon her naginata, as they had remained paralyzed by the sight of her charging them. Upon realizing that to remain as such would mean their deaths, they began to try and fight back against her.

It was to be in vain.

The first of the Marauders was killed instantly as Keira brought her naginata in from below, before slashing upwards at an angle, splitting him clean in half. Spinning around, she brought the bladed staff down again, driving the blade all the way through another one. At the same time, she put her wings to use, reaching out and nabbing one of the masked soldiers by the leg, yanking him off his feet. He thrashed about like a fish out of water, but the angelic Channeler was quick to put a stop to that, as a second wing reached back and wrapped around his throat. A quick twist, and the sound of snapping bone was heard.

Without so much as a backwards glance, the young warrior threw the corpse away, lashing out with her foot as she did so. Her armored foot talons pierced the steel chest armor of her foe, going through his chest and almost erupting from his back. Spinning about, she launched the dying man into a group of his comrades, who were quite horrified by this apparently supernatural being as it was. Having the thrashing body of one of their buddies thrown at them certainly didn't help their courage at all, and several broke from the group in an attempt to flee from Keira. However, just as they had started to get a good head of steam going, the angel was upon them again, coming down from above and splitting one of them clean in half with her Vibrium weapon.

Dashing around in front of the fleeing group, she gave Masamune a deft, two handed spin before driving the butt end of it into the face of one of her foes. The Light Eco Crystal set into the bottom of it went into the man's eye, and he fell to the ground, clawing at his wound.

As the group slowly backed away from her, Keira walked towards them, pausing just long enough to put the wounded Marauder out of his misery.

One fell to her knees and pleaded for mercy, only to have her begging repaid by the hissing sound of the angel's weapon being swung, taking her head off at the shoulders.

"I'll show you the same mercy you showed the Wastelanders." The Ascended Channeler growled, her voice now possessing a strange, echoing like tone to it.

With that, she charged them, her naginata spinning as she hacked and slashed. Some of her foes tried to flee once again, while others, knowing that there was no hope, drew close combat weapons and attempted to stand their ground. All met with the same fate as she cut them down.

When all were dead and their lifeblood spewing out onto the sand, she turned to assess the rest of the battle. Her Wastelander comrades had quite a bit of a headway going, but the Marauders seemed to be realizing that they were under attack. Such knowledge could do wonders for a hangover, and they were quickly trying to get an organized defense going.

She saw one of her allies drop, a bullet tearing through him, and looking up, she discovered the source: a sniper on the rooftop of the fortress. Growling in anger, she focused within herself, calling upon one of her more destructive abilities. A ball of glowing white energy appeared in her hand, and with a cry, she unleashed the Channeled attack. It formed into a ray of energy, and streaked upwards like a shooting star, before hitting the area that the sniper was in and detonating.

A smoldering rifle fell from above, and she smiled grimly behind her helmet, before charging across the courtyard to where a dug in group of Marauders were causing some problems.

As it had been before, the defenders were somewhat distracted by the sight of an apparently otherworldly being, and as such, were easy prey to someone as beyond them as herself.

As the last one twitched out her life upon the sand, the girl looked around, and not seeing any enemies at the moment, decided that she should check on Jak and see if her soul mate needed any assistance.

"Jak?" she called into the communications system of her helmet.

"Yes?" came the growled voice that belonged to Kage.

"Oh, didn't know you'd gone and transformed." came her somewhat surprised response.

"Once you and the others showed up, these vermin started pouring out of the tunnels like rats, and the two of us figured it would be best if we stopped with stealth tactics and went for a more direct approach." He informed her, grunting while he was at it.

A moment later, she heard a death gurgle over the comm. link and figured that the oni was still up to his armpits in Marauders. That conclusion reached, she quickly decided that it was time to go on the offensive again and try to link up with him.

She charged through the nearest door, a well placed kick turning it to firewood and then she was in. Much to her surprise, a very large and heavily built person joined her.

"Sig?" she inquired as she ran along. "Shouldn't you be helping to secure the courtyard?"

"Valthos and the others will get that under control, don't you worry," he told her, and she could tell that there was a silent rage boiling just underneath the Wastelander's apparently calm attitude. "As for me, I gotta find my sister and get her and the other monks out of this hellhole."

The angelic Channeler nodded somberly, and felt a genuine amount of pity for anyone stupid enough to try and stop the large warrior.

No sooner did that thought cross her mind, than did they encounter a Marauder squadron that was apparently trying to make its way outside and try to hold the fort.

Keira prepared herself to attack, but Sig beat her to the punch.

A ball of crackling electricity shot past her, and the next thing that she knew, the burly enforcer had put his deadly Peace Maker gun to effect. The lightning ball exploded, tendrils of electricity lashing out and ravaging the whole group.

Screaming, they went down, electricity continuing to crackle over them. However, one that had been on the rear guard had apparently survived. With a slow, deliberate purpose, Sig walked up to the man, and grabbed him around the throat. He then slammed the man's head against the wall, before staring him right in the eyes, his whole face twisted into a mask of hatred.

"Where's Scourge holding the monks?" he snarled, his voice full of a kind of venom that Keira had never heard before, which was saying something indeed.

The Marauder whimpered for a moment and refused to answer, but a slight constricting of the man's throat caused him to suddenly become more cooperative. He raised a hand, and pointed to a corridor that headed east. Sig smiled, and thanked the man for his cooperation… right before knocking his lights out. As he let the man slide down the ground, he turned to head down the corridor. Keira moved to follow him, but he put a hand up.

"Sorry, Keira, but this is something I gotta do on my own." The burly Wastelander told her.

"But…" the Ascended Channeler responded.

"It's a family thing," Sig said, cutting her off, "and besides, I suspect that Valthos and the others have started breaking through by now, not to mention the havoc that your hubby must be wreaking on the other side of the compound, so I suspect they won't have more than half a dozen or so guards. You'd better go team up with Jak, Scourge has probably sent half of the army to go and deal with him."

Keira nodded silently, before proceeding down a western corridor, the direction that that seemed most logical, as she had little doubt that had he been in the east, those Marauders that they had run into would have been screaming and running for their lives, rather than out to engage the rest of the Wastelanders.

* * *

Charging through the passages and corridors of the Marauder Fortress, the angelic Channeler soon found evidence that her soul mate and his alter ego had indeed been through here, if the blood spattered walls and dismembered body parts were to be any indication. A few Marauders still crawled and flopped about, more dead than alive, but she didn't even bother to pause long enough to finish them off. She had more important things that she needed to do. 

Following this trail, it did not take her long to locate her quarry. Her first real clue as to how close she was to them was the screaming, echoing through the hallways.

A few moments later, as she approached a corner, a Marauder came around it, fear filling her eyes and her mouth opened in a silent scream of terror. However, upon seeing that she was fleeing a hell spawned demon only to run right into some kind of avenging angel, she attempted to backpedal and bring herself to halt. She did succeed in stooping her forward momentum, but unfortunately for her, that was mostly due the fact that having a spear like weapon shoved through your ribcage with an extreme amount of force usually resulted in bringing you to a halt.

With contempt, Keira lashed out, kicking the still twitching body off of her naginata, and then dashing around the corner.

Kage was on the warpath. Bodies lay everywhere, some decapitated, some run through, others cleaved in half and eviscerated. There were even a few where Keira couldn't really tell exactly what their manner of death had been, as there wasn't enough of a corpse left. Still, considering what these desert dwelling scumbags had done, and Kage's sense of honor, it was not surprising that he was unleashing a fury that was truly 'wrath of the gods' in nature.

Even as she watched, the oni blocked a pair of war axes that were brought to bear against him, before taking a step towards the closest opponent and dealing him a death that Keira had never seen before. The Dark Eco demon took advantage of fact that his helmet had changed to accommodate his muzzle, opening his jaws and lashing out, cobra quick, sinking his fangs into the neck of the Marauder, before twisting his head away and out. His throat torn almost to the point of being decapitated, the Marauder fell to his knees, his final cries more of gurgle than anything else.

Not wasting a second, Kage parried another strike from the other one, before reaching out and grabbing him around the face with his left foot. The marauder barely had time to scream before the oni swung him around and slammed his head through the stone wall of the fortress with such force that even after he released his grip upon the corpse, it did not fall to the ground.

There were still about a dozen or so Marauders to be dealt with, and Keira was not about to let Kage do all of the work. She let out a battle cry, drawing the attention of their foes, who were quick to realize that there was not one, but two of these strange beings attacking them. Thus, they quickly realized that they in serious trouble, as they did not seem capable of fighting just one of these creatures, let alone a pair of them. Faced with this indestructible barrier, they did what any normal person would have done when confronted by two Ascended Channelers in their combat forms: they turned and ran like hell itself was upon their heels.

Naturally, though, such a retreat did not help them in the slightest, and they were quickly brought down.

"You've been busy," Keira remarked as she drove Masamune into the heart of the last one, and then shaking him off of the end of the Precursor forged weapon.

"These bastards are like cockroaches." The oni remarked, looking around at the results of his rampage. "They keep coming out of the walls. How are Valthos and the others doing?"

"I think they've managed to break through the main entrance to the fortress and they're starting to take over the interior, mostly due to the fact that you've managed to keep about half of the occupied." The angelic Channeler responded, staring into the crimson eyes of the Dark Eco demon. "Sig's also going to try and bail out Seem and the others."

'_I think we've done enough damage to this area, we need to head back to where Valthos and the others are and make sure they do not get overrun, they're outnumbered pretty badly despite the ones we've taken out.' _Jak muttered inside of his own mind, a point that his alter ego was quick to agree upon.

"I think you're right, we do need to be heading back." The oni said, looking up at Keira, who nodded silently, giving her naginata a few spins before charging back the way that they came.

* * *

Sig carefully peaked around a corridor, and found what looked to be a prison block within it. He continued to stare, but could not find any signs of guards or sentries. Still, it paid to be cautious, and so he did not blindly charge into the cell block, but instead went in slowly, his gun, set to its peace maker mode, level with his finger on the trigger. 

He quickly reached the conclusion that he'd found the place when he saw a familiar face amongst the sleeping prisoners. Like them, she was not aware of the waking world, no doubt trying to conserve her strength for a time when she would need it. She appeared to be okay, but Sig vowed that if Seem had been hurt by any of these wretches, then he would rip the ones that were responsible apart with his bare hands.

It was then that he did throw caution to the wind lowering his gun and facing over toe cell that she was in.

"Seem!" he hissed quietly, trying to get her to wake up.

He got no response, so he tried again in a louder voice. This time, he got a response form her, as she groaned and her eyes fluttered open. She looked about drowsily, but as soon as she realized who it was on the other side of the bars, she snapped to full alertness, and dashed over to him.

"Sig!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her adoptive brother and smiling, relieved that he was okay.

"You alright?" he asked, concern in his voice.

"I'm fine." She responded with a nod. "But many of my companions were injured on the journey here, and some of them were among those who went missing weeks ago."

By this time, the noise had begun to wake others as well, and they, upon realizing that salvation and rescue was at hand, began to wake their companions.

"Get back," Sig told his little sister, "I'm going to blast the lock off."

However, as he morphed his gun to its rifle mode and drew a power pack from his belt, his lack of caution nearly proved to be his undoing, for there had indeed been a guard, hiding in the shadows where none could see him, and he chose that moment to make his presence know. Seem saw him, and was able to shout a warning in time. However, Sig was forced to drop his weapon and devote all his attention to grabbing the wrists of the Marauder to stop the two handed scimitar from splitting him in half. Sig quickly planted his knee into the other elf's groin, causing him to drop the weapon, but then a wrestling match was on.

The two struggled back and forth, neither able to hold the advantage for long. However, Sig was about to get some help that he hadn't counted upon… in fact, no one ever saw it coming.

The armored enforcer had dropped his weapon and its power pack when he had been grabbed from behind. The gun landed beyond Seem's reach, but the clip was only a couple of feet away from her. She got down on her knees and strained, reaching out as far as she could with her left arm. After a couple of seconds, she could feel her hands grasp the metal of her prize, and she quickly yanked the pack back into her cell as her brother and his antagonist continued to struggle back and forth across the cell block.

She gazed down at the clip for a brief moment, before steeling herself for what was to come, as what she was about to do was going to hurt, a lot. She placed the power pack between bother of her palms, and narrowing her crimson eyes, focused all of her effort on crushing it. For a few seconds it held, before she felt it begin to give, and a moment later, the power pack shattered. Metal shards entered her hands, slicing through flesh and tendons and nerve, and the pain exploded through her mind. It was all she could do not to pass out form the agony, but she willed the darkness away, her brother needed her, and she was not going to let him die just because she couldn't' handle a little bit of pain. Still, she couldn't hold back a scream as her blood began to dribble out on the stone floor of her cell. But with the pain came a surge of power that she had not felt in years, as she once more called upon the gift of her blood.

Both combatants looked over to the monk, and worry as he'd never before known came over Sig. Fortunately, his opponent was just as distracted by what Seem was doing, and didn't use this opportunity to try to choke the life out of him.

Seem opened her eyes, and while they were rimmed in pain, there was a power there, something that Sig had never seen in them before. The remains of the shattered power pack fell to the floor, clanging against the stone as it did so, and Sig noticed that the Yellow Eco that had been stored inside of it was nowhere to be found. The Marauder against which he'd been fighting for his life noticed the same thing, and both realized what had happened a moment later, when Seem cupped her hands, and balls of energy appeared in them, blazing like miniature suns.

The monk glared at the Marauder that had dared to try and kill her brother, and with a feral cry, she threw the first energy orb at the attacker, and it blew him off of Sig, and against the wall, a hole steaming in his chest. A second later, she hurled the second attack. The ball of energy was dead on, and the Marauder made a wet, popping sound, what was a left of him splattering all around the room.

His nostrils flaring at the smell of burnt flesh, Sig looked over to his adoptive sister in wonder, his jaw agape as he realized what she was, what she'd been hiding all this time. However, a moment later, when she fell to her knees, her hands pressed together, he noticed all of the blood. With a curse, he got to his feet, and rushed to her aid.

He snatched his gun up off of the floor, and quickly drew another clip to reload it, before frying the lock to her cell and hurriedly stepping inside.

Seem was a mess, her hands full of lacerations and he could see bits of metal sticking out. One of her fingers dangled limply, attached by nothing more than a few tendons and sinews. He cursed again, and stepped outside just long enough to take aim at all of the other cell doors, and free the remainder of the monks. Without a moment's hesitation, and ran back over to his little sister, before shouldering his rifle and scooping her up into his arms.

He then rushed blindly out of the cell block, heading back to where Valthos and the others were, hoping that he ran into Keira some where along the way, knowing that the Ascended Channeler could heal his adoptive sibling.

* * *

With a roar, Kage lunged forward, impaling a Marauder through the chest while performing what could best be described as a ballerina split, reaching out and grabbing one of the dying elf's comrades around her leg with his foot. He then yanked her back towards himself, thrashing his leg slightly and throwing her into the air. Kitetsu hissed a moment later, and the decapitated corpse hit the ground, its lifeblood pouring out upon the stone floor of the hallway. 

Next to him, Keira also turned a pair of Marauders into cooling bodies, stabbing one with Masamune while following through with a round house kick that thanks to her claws cut another in half at the waste.

A few seconds later, the last of the Marauders fell to the ground, a nice sized hole in his head from where a PSG-1 sniper round had torn right through it.

"Keep pushing forward!" Valthos barked, an order that his men and women were all too eager to carry out.

However, they had not gone far when they ran into Sig and company, and both groups looked relieved to see one another relatively unharmed.

"Praise the Ancients I found you guys." The burly Wastelander muttered, stepping over towards Keira with Seem still held in his arms, her face still a twisted mask of agony.

"What the heck happened to her?" the angelic Channeler asked, a look of bafflement upon what part of her face was visible.

"Long story, I'll tell you later." Sig said hurriedly. "Just patch her up!"

"Okay, I'll give it a shot." She muttered, placing Masamune on her back and extending her hands towards the garish injuries that Seem had.

She focused, finding the power within herself, and willed it to come forth. It did, and a stream of light came form the palms of her hands and circulated around the wounds on Seem's hands. The Light Eco hovered over them for a few moments, before it went into her skin, and the metal shards were forced out as the injuries slowly closed. The look upon the monk's face changed from one of agony to that of a person who was in utter amazement.

It was to be expected, as Keira had not mentioned a word of this to her in the brief time that she and Sig had been with her before the arena fight. However, she would keep her questions until a more appropriate time, though she vowed then and there she would find some way to repay the Ascended Channeler for her help, knowing that she would retain her requisite number of fingers only because of her aid. That decided, she climbed out of her brother's arms, and looked to her king, awaiting her orders.

"Seth, Kleiver." Valthos said, taking the opportunity to reload his gunblade.

"Sir?" both inquired looking to their leader.

"I want you two to take a squad, and head back to the courtyard with the monks, we don't want them getting caught in a firefight." He said, and Seem looked as if she was about to protest. "They're exhausted, and knowing Scourge, they haven't had the past few hours very easy."

Seem backed down, realizing the logic behind the Sand King's orders. Valthos then turned to Sig.

"I want you to take the rest of the group and search for the rest of our people; they've got to have them holed up here somewhere." He told his friend, and he got a frown in response.

"What about you?"

"I'll be heading off with these two." He gestured over to Kage and Keira, both of whom were watching the conversation with interest. "We're going to go find the viper's head and take care of it." he informed the group, his tone hovering around absolute zero.

With that, they went their separate ways.

* * *

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Okay, hope you all enjoyed that one, and that Seem's little abilities were pleasing to you. 

Not much else to say here, except to once more thank those who helped me think up Keira's AC form, and to let you all know that if you wish to comment, give me constructive criticism, have an idea for a weapon or a power that you would like to see, or even just want to flame me, go right on ahead.

Thanks again for your time, and have a great week.


	20. Battle, History, and a Journey

Once again, sorry for the delay, but Murphy's Law paid us a visit on Thursday, as our hotwater heater went out with a bit of a bang…and left quite a mess. That, combined with the fact that I was late in submitting this chapter to animedragongirl, who is already overworked at the moment without me adding to the pile, has caused the delay.

Also, due to the lateness of my submission, this chapter has not been betaed yet. Once animedragongirl get's done, a fully corrected version will be reuploaded. That said, if you spot a glaring error, let me know, as I really hate having those, and we've all scene how effective my beta reading is.

Another thing, is that I have submitted an application to a fantasy/science fiction writing workshop that will take place this summer. I used the first chapter of this story for my work sample, and wish me luck on getting accepted, because if that happens, well, I might just be able to make something of a career out of this if they can help me tune up my work to publishing status, as Odyssey, the name of the workshop, has a very good reputation for being able to turn out successful authors. (crosses fingers)

To all of you who reviewed, I thank you, and I hope I was able to answer your questions fully.

Oh yes, before I forget, I want to share another drawing with you that CopyCat87 of Deviant Art was kind enough to do for me. If the link doesn't work, let me know, and I'll e-mail it to you. Now, the link:

http/ www. deviantart. com/ deviation/ 29761171/

Note, you'll have to take out the spaces I put in, because every time I've tried to post a link normally, the web format deletes it for some bizarre reason…(grumbling)

Lawyers: I own nothing, so don't sue, and quit calling me!

That said, here's chapter twenty

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Battle, History, and a Journey

Scourge look around his throne room, staring at the few troops he had left under his command. They were barely thirty in number, but they were his own elites, soldiers hardened by years of desert warfare against Wastelander and Metal Head alike. Furthermore, he and his soldiers had rigged up some impromptu barricades, and were rather dug in considering the circumstances. That, combined with the fact that there was only one point of entry, made this last stand of theirs a proverbial meat grinder that would tear through the thing ranks of his enemies.

Under normal circumstances, well, as normal as they could be at a time like this, the Marauder leader would have been quite confident in their ability to hold out. As it was, though, he was rather troubled by the bits and pieces of radio traffic that he had been able to pick up on, as it seemed to be hinting that the enemy had something up there sleeve. What he knew for a fact was that there were at least two enemy soldiers in particular who were decorating the stone walls with the innards of the men and women that were under his command.

Still, however, skilled they were, there were still only elves, and therefore, they could bleed and die just like any other mortal.

He shouldered a massive assault rifle, waiting for the inevitable assault, smiling grimly behind his helmet at the thought of making those fools pay for daring to attack him.

With any luck, he'd be able to capture one or maybe both of those warriors alive, and then he'd really use them as an example of what happened when a person such as himself was crossed.

The assault was soon enough in coming, as he heard the sound of banging on the reinforced door of the throne room. Everyone tensed, preparing to unleash a devastating volley that would doubtlessly turn the first few ranks of the Wastelanders into swiss cheese.

The banging came a couple times more, before it stopped, and all became deathly silent, the kind of strange calm one got with the eye of a hurricane… right before the other side came for round two.

It was then that a strange, pulsing type noise began to fill the air, and a couple of the Marauders exchanged glances with one another, wondering what sort of weaponry their enemies were about to employ.

They found out a couple of seconds later, when the doors were literally blown clean off of their hinges, flying through the air and crashing to the ground, traces of Dark Eco hissing upon it. Not a second later, something that was most certainly not of elven origins came barreling through the door.

Only then did Scourge truly understand why his soldiers had termed one of the enemies a demon, for it truly seemed as though one of those abyss spawned creations was among them, and for a moment, all he and the others could do was stare in stunned silence as the creature leapt up, flipped around, and sank its talons into the semispherical wall/roof of the room. It then began to rush upwards, running along the ceiling at a pace that no ordinary elf could hope to match.

It was then that time seemed to resume its normal flow, and the Marauder leader began to bark out orders to his subordinates, while aiming his rifle at the beast and firing with wild abandon.

"Shoot it down! Shoot it down!" he screamed, an order that was repeated several times over as enough small arms fire to knock down a Hellcat cruiser filled the air.

But the Dark Eco demon was far too fast for them to hit, and their intense effort on killing him proved to be the suitable distraction that would seal their fates. For while they were attempting to pump Kage full of holes, they failed to notice Keira, who came in a moment later, Masamune cocked back and ready to strike.

The Marauders realized the gravity of their error when the angelic Channeler leapt over the barricade, landing on one of the soldiers in the process. As she crushed the life out of him, she glared around, smirking as the enemy took notice of her and realized the level of hot water that they were in. A moment later, she was upon them.

The angel extended her left hand towards a small group of Marauders, and white fire leapt from her fingertips, crackling and roaring as they shot towards them. The strange fire engulfed them a moment later, and burned through metal armor, cloth, and skin with equal ease. The soldiers flailed about, dropping their weapons as they threw themselves to the ground and rolled about, frantically trying to extinguish themselves.

Keira then pushed off of the ground once more, vaulting backwards through the air and skewering another Marauder in the process. Not wishing to stop her little rampage, the girl lashed out with her clawed foot as she landed. The twin talons punched through the woman's armor, and made quick work of her intestines. Her gun held in a death grip as she spasmed, she was able to fire off a couple of rounds. However, the slugs failed to penetrate the Vibrium armor that Keira was encased in, and merely pinged off the of chest plate, ricocheting back and tearing through the dying Marauder.

She sensed that another soldier was busy taking aim at her from behind, but she merely smiled as she realized the futility of his efforts.

The Marauder in question was leveling an assault rifle. However, as he went to pull the trigger, pain exploded through his back, and he opened his mouth to scream, only to find the air driven from his lungs as he hit the stone floor. A moment later, he was dead, crushed underneath the weight of the oni that had suddenly descended from the ceiling.

With a roar that could be heard even over the din of the battle that raged, Kage shot forward, bringing Kitetsu and a phantom copy of the dark katana down and cleaving an enemy apart. At the same time, he spun about, lashing out with his tail and smashing it across the chest of another Marauder. The elf went flying, crashing headlong into one of the barricades, where he slumped to the floor, his body crushed and broken.

Within ten seconds, every single soldier save for Scourge was dead, and the Marauder leader simply stood where he was, his eyes bulging out from behind his helmet as he looked at the sheer power that these two… things… had unleashed upon his men. Then, as the angel and the demon turned to look at him, he snarled, dropped his rifle and drew his massive blade, readying it and shifting his glance back and forth between the two of them, his stance daring them to come forward and test his mettle. However, it was not to be.

"Kage, Keira, wait!" came a voice that Scourge knew all too well from battlefields of time's past, and rage as he'd never known it before welled up inside of him.

A moment later, Valthos leapt over the barricades, coming down with a flip and easily landing on his feet. Both of the Ascended Channelers looked to him, suddenly understanding what was going on, and why they had been ordered to wait as opposed to turning Scourge into something that looked like it came out of a blender.

One leader versus another, man to man, with no outside interference, how very traditional.

Both of them nodded gravely at the Sand King, before dashing back out the way they came in, heading off to see if there was something they could do to assist the rest of the Wastelanders.

Valthos spared them a backwards glance as they left, before returning his attention to the massive, armored Marauder that stood in front of him, whom he knew would like nothing better than to kill him, if only to get one last, defiant spit in the face of his enemies. However, while he was still very much aware of how much damage that Scourge's blade was capable of inflicting, to say nothing of the massive amount of armor that his foe was incased in, the ruler of Spargus had every confidence that he was going to come out on top in this fight. As such, he decided that however tactically unwise it might have been under normal circumstance's that he would draw this battle out, as opposed to making it quick.

This, after all, was vengeance. Let his foe know what fate awaited him, know that Death was going to come and drag his soul down to the eternal torment that awaited him.

However, he was still going to play it safe while he was at it. Thus, he quickly made use of his belt and assimilated some Red Eco into himself.

Up until this point, the Marauder leader had not been aware of the nature of his nemesis, and thus was caught rather off guard, his jaw dropping behind his helmet as he realized that this might be a little more difficult than he first calculated. This surprise move gave Valthos all the time that he needed to level his gunblade, take aim at Scourge, and fire off a round to get the event started.

Not surprisingly, the slug bounced off of his armor without the slightest hint of inflicting damage. In response, Scourge let out a mighty battle cry, and against all odds, despite how heavily he was weighed down by his sword and armor, he leapt at Valthos. The Sand King rolled out of the way as the huge weapon came crashing down, forming a dent in the floor and rattling the whole room as it impacted. Scourge was quick to put his massive strength to good use, and was determined not to let his highly skilled adversary get of any attacks own off, bringing the weapon out of the floor and swinging it horizontally. He went so far at to make a complete three hundred and sixty degree spin, letting centrifugal force help him out in the weight department while he tried to take down his foe.

This time, Valthos didn't dodge, opting to stand his ground and lock his feet into a defensive stance. Then, with his strength enhanced by the Eco that he had absorbed, he blocked the strike, an unearthly clang filling the room as the two sword met. For some moments, the two combatants grunted and heaved, each trying to gain the advantage over the other as their weapons grated harshly back and forth against one another, creating sparks that filled the air.

Finally, Valthos broke the blade lock, and quickly ducked underneath his opponent's strike as it whoosed overhead. At the same time, he took advantage of the inertia created by such a weapon to quickly get a few strikes in on Scourge. The Marauder's armor was well made, however, and it held up to the assault, with only a couple of grooves to show for the Sand King's efforts. However, he was prepared for such an event, and quickly back flipped as the massive blade came back in, sailing neatly over it, while firing off another round from his weapon. As before, it did little, if any, damage to the massive Marauder, aside from making Scourge all the more enraged.

Once more, Scourge leapt, cocking his massive weapon behind his head, before bringing it down with enough force that it probably would have hacked through the armor of a scorpion assault tank. However, with a deft roll, Valthos was out of harm's way, smirking behind his cloth facemask as the room rattled once more.

He charged back into the fray as Scourge readied his weapon, brining his gunblade in from the side to strike against the ribcage of his foe. The weapon bounced off with little success, and the Sand King was forced to duck a vicious backhand that would have likely crushed his skull had it connected. As it was, it gave him the perfect opportunity to draw first blood. He quickly jabbed upward with his gunblade, and smirked once more as it nailed Scourge in the armpit, drawing blood and tearing through flesh.

The Marauder took the blow stoically letting no cry of pain escape, while a rampage with his massive weapon a moment or two latter let Valthos know that the wound was a minor irritant at worst.

Deciding that the time had come to further humiliate his foe, Valthos jumped backward, before reaching down to his belt and acquiring some Blue Eco. Instantly, his movement speed increased, and he spent the next few seconds literally running circles around Scourge, laughing out loud as the Marauder tried in vain to keep up with him. A blow came in, aimed at the back of the other elf's neck. The armor wasn't as thick at that point, designed more for deflecting a glancing blow or an angled shot from a ranged weapon, as few actually lived more than a few seconds against Scourge in melee combat, so he saw no need to chafe up his neck with the same variety of heavy plate as the rest of his body. Thus, the gunblade was able to tear through and make a teasing, tiny gash along the back of his neck.

As he whirled around to face his speedy nemesis, another stinging mockery of a blow came in, this one along the back of his leg, right where the back of his right kneecap was. A second later, his world was rocked as Valthos leapt up and planted both of his feet into the back of the Marauder leader's helmet with an audible 'bong.' Somewhat dazed and disoriented form the attack, Scourge stumbled forward. He did have sense enough to turn around to face his opponent, but by that time, Valthos had once again used his superhuman speed to get behind him again, and this time, his other armpit was cut open, much to his fury.

Gripping his colossal blade as tightly as he could, Scourge once again began to spin around, hoping that with the nearly ten total foot reach that he had with it, that his foe might find himself within that range, and be taken care of. What he got instead was the ringing sensation of a few more slugs bouncing off of his heavy armor as Valthos wisely retreated back out of range.

Snarling in rage, the Marauder leader stopped his attack and turned to face his opponent, only to be rewarded with yet another bullet being thrown at him. This one ricocheted off of his helmet, less than an inch above where it was open to allow him to see out of. Glaring back at his foe, he saw the look in Valthos' eyes, and knew that the Sand King had missed on purpose. A fury filled his soul, and he charged the ruler of Spargus, heedless of the potential consequences of his actions. He brought his massive weapon in from the right side, swinging it upwards in hopes of splitting his foe in half, but another backwards vault put Valthos easily out of range.

However, the Sand King had reached a decision, and thought that it was a good time to stop toying with the large Marauder and finish the job. As Scourge once again charged him, he assimilated some Yellow Eco, and with a wicked, ear to ear grin, pointed his left hand at Scourge. Too late, the Marauder leader realized what was about to happen. He attempted to dodge, but he wasn't quite fast enough, and the energy beam caught him squarely in the chest.

Pain exploded in his world as the beam hit, blowing him backwards and causing him to lose his grip upon his weapon. Ironically enough, he was sent sailing into his throne, where his momentum and armor plating made him act something like a living artillery shell, and blasted it apart before slamming against the stone wall, where he slide to the ground.

The stench of burnt flesh was heavy in the air as Valthos slowly strode over to where his enemy lay.

One looked revealed that Scourge was dying. The blast had caught him dead on, and had actually turned his armor against him, as it had melted under the fury of the attack, and was now attached to his chest.

Helpless due to the fact that the force of the impact had shattered his spin, Scourge stared up at Valthos, his eyes narrowing hatefully behind his helmet.

He opened his mouth to say something, to utter one last spiteful sentence, but before he could, he felt a pain across his neck, and the last thing he was aware of was his world spinning violently before all went black.

Valthos, looking down upon the decapitated corpse, noticed that some of Scourge's blood had spattered upon his armor, but he made no move to remove it. Instead, he leaned down, and slowly lowered the cloth mask that covered his face. He then spat upon the headless body.

Replacing his mask, the Sand King made his way out of the throne room, knowing that the spirits of his fallen people would sleep easier tonight.

* * *

One hour had passed since the fall of the leader of the Marauders, and the Wastelanders were quite busy running about the fortress, searching for tools, weapons, foodstuffs, and anything else that might be useful. After all, Spargus was still going to be in need of some major repairs, and it would take quite a while before things returned to any semblance of normalcy.

Jak, Keira, and Daxter were all huddled around the Slam Dozer, catching their breath and taking a well deserved break from the rigors of hauling everything around, and also attempting to remove the copious amounts of blood from their armor. Sig and Seem were there as well, as the monk finally explained to them exactly what had happened inside of the fortress.

"Why didn't you tell anyone about this?" Jak inquired, cocking his head to one side as he paused in his cleaning attempts.

"You are not very familiar with the situation regarding Channelers outside of Haven, are you?" Seem responded, a frown appearing upon her face while her eyes darkened.

"Not really, no," the Ascended Channeler responded.

"Where you come from, your kind are hailed as heroes and great warriors for their powers," the monk said, her voice quiet and soft, "in other places, far from here, to have such blood in your veins is a curse."

"Could you please speak in plain English for once?" Daxter inquired, groaning and rubbing his forehead at the same time.

"The Hora-quan hunt us because of the legacy that we carry within us," Seem explained. "Because of that, many people fear that the presence of a Channeler among them will result in the Metal Heads arriving to raze their community to the ground, and as such, when they are discovered, they are either driven from town, or the people try to put them to death."

"I'll assume try is the key word in this instance?" Keira remarked, knowing how powerful their kind were compared to 'normal' elves.

"We are more vulnerable than you might think," The monk replied in a sober tone. "But that was not the fate of myself, nor of my father, from whom I draw my powers."

"Now you've really gotten me confused!" Daxter muttered, rolling his eyes and giving up on any hope of ever getting a straight sentence out of the crimson eyed girl.

"We lived in a small city at the far southern end of the continent," She explained, looking slowly around at everyone. "It was a place known as Cordova, and it was there that I was born and raised. My father, Zearic, was a Channeler, and he was the town healer, so we found acceptance among them, despite his heritage."

Seem's blood red eyes grew dark once more, and she could once more recall the screams of dying people, as the memories of that horrid day of her past came back as clear as the time in which they had occurred.

"One day, though, when I was about seven, all of that changed," She said after an eternity had passed, and she stared straight at Jak, her gaze boring into the dark elf. "Not all Channelers are noble like yourselves, there are those who use their powers for their own selfish ends, and one of those came into my world." She paused once more, drawing in a ragged breath before gathering the courage to continue. "His name was Nadeen, and he was a Channeler that favored darkness as his weapon."

Jak nodded silently, as did his inner demon, as they both saw the pieces that were beginning to fall into place now.

"He came with an army, but he scarcely needed them, as my home was not a military city, and we could rouse little more than a militia to stop him," The monk said, shaking her head sadly. "My father was with them that day, and met Nadeen upon the field of battle."

Silence hung in the air, and a chocked sob came from the throat of the monk, and there was a glistening in her eyes, the shimmering of tears that threatened to fall.

"From what I was told, my father fought well, but as I told you, he was a healer, not a warrior." She looked the dark Ascended Channeler straight in the eye, trying to let him understand the full depth of her vendetta against him. "Nadeen slew my father and slaughtered all that opposed him. Cordova fell inside of a day."

"I'm sorry," Jak muttered, a frown upon his face, as he understood all to well what it was like to have one's family ripped away from oneself.

"Do not be," Seem responded in a similar tone. "It should be I apologizing to you, for thinking that you and that tyrant were of the same nature."

There was an awkward silence, broken some moments later by Keira, whose ever inquisitive nature wanted to know how this tale ended.

"What happened next?" the tech head inquired.

"My mother, Helena, was wise enough to realize that Nadeen would find out about me, and despite my youth, would see me as a threat to his rule, as he did not wish for anyone who could one day challenge him to be within the city. She knew he would have had me killed without a second thought," The monk said, her tone distant. "We fled the city in the chaos of the takeover, and headed off to seek refuge elsewhere. Unfortunately, what we found instead was the Wasteland, and Death would have claimed me anyways, were it not for Sig."

From there, the Wastelander took over, telling of the tale of how he had found both mother and child nearly dead from dehydration. He spoke of the mother's death, and of how he took the girl in, he spoke of Seem's induction into the order of the monks, and how she had risen through their ranks to become head of the order.

By the time that he had finished, the sun was rising, and most everything of value had been rounded up, from equipment to prisoners, and it was time to head back. The Wastelanders were eager to do so, having spent enough time in the foul home of their enemy, and they wanted to just head back to Spargus, tend to their wounded, and get some rest before they started what was doubtlessly going to be a long and taxing repair process.

* * *

The trip back to Spargus went by much swifter than their journey to the Marauder Fortress, as they had no need to worry about stealth. For once, it seemed as if the heavens smiled upon them in their victory, for no harsh winds molested them, not prisoners tried to break free, and even the Metal Heads were nowhere to be found, for which just about every man and woman present was grateful for, as they were in no mood or condition to fend off the Hora-quan after everything else that had happened.

However, Jak, Keira, Daxter and Kage were a little anxious about the absence of any of the larger forms of the Hora-quan, who, from their understanding, would normally jump at the chance to ambush a convoy of elves. Thus, they were quick to reach a very sober conclusion: that they were gathering elsewhere, likely at Haven, to try their best to finish off the beleaguered defenders.

Thus, when they got back to Spargus, Jak was quick to locate Valthos, and pull him aside.

"I hate to cut and run," the dark elf began, looking the Sand King straight in the eye, "but Keira, Dax, and myself need to be getting back to Haven City."

"Why?" Valthos inquired, cocking his head slightly, and Jak could detect something foreign, almost unnatural in the other elf's voice, but he couldn't quite put his finger on exactly what it was.

"They're in a lot of trouble right now," Keira said, coming up from behind, removing her helmet, her eyes, which now glowed almost neon green in color and whose pupils were now a bizarre whitish-blue, narrowing slightly. "They're under attack by both the Metal Heads and a mechanized army, and they're going to need us."

The silence of the next few moments was deafening, as Valthos waged a war within himself, part of him knowing that the boy he now knew as his son, and the woman that was his daughter in law, even if she didn't realize it, had to return. He had not completely forgotten the city that he had once ruled, and despite what Praxis had done to him, he would not allowed for it to be destroyed simply because he was so selfish as to forbid their two greatest warriors to return in their hour of need.

But there was still a part of him that wanted to put his foot down, that part of being a parent that had laid buried and dormant for so long, that feared what might befall either of them if they were to throw themselves in harms way once again. Even Daxter, the annoying little rodent that he was, had managed to earn a little place in the Sand King's heart, and he was grateful that the gods had been kind enough to give his son such a loyal friend, despite the ottsel's eccentrics.

There was also all that his son had done for him personally. In a way, he finally felt as if he had come back to the land of the living, knowing that he was still alive. Once more, the Sand King was ready to lead his people, for good or ill.

However, as he looked into Jak's alien eyes, and saw the man that his boy had grown into, he knew what his choice was going to have to be.

"If you want to get to Haven by crossing the Wasteland," he said, his voice carefully measured and as devoid of emotion as he could make it, "you'll want to take one of our Sand Sharks. It's the fastest thing we've got that can hold the supplies that you'll need. Talk to Kleiver, and he'll get one set up for you."

"Thank you," Jak said, and both he and his soul mate turned and went off to find the quartermaster.

* * *

"That's the last of the fuel cans," Kleiver said, dusting his hands off as he looked at the group for the last time before they left, "you sure this all that you'll be needing?"

"We'll be fine," Keira stated, grateful that their journey was about to commence. "Thank you for everything, Kleiver."

"You blokes just watch yourselves," The Aussie elf said, a crooked smile coming over his face.

"Don't worry about us," Daxter replied, scratching his chest and then looking down at his fingernails, "just pray that ole tweety bird here doesn't get in any more trouble."

Pecker, the obvious target of the joke, nearly went purple with rage.

The moncaw had been captured in the initial attack, and Scourge that thought the idea of such a pet to be a humorous one indeed, and had promptly had a cage made for his containment. The Wastelanders had found him like that in Scourge's private quarters, and once Daxter had gotten wind of it, Pecker realized that the ottsel had just been handed a lifetime supply of ammunition to use against him in their little war with each other. He also had little doubt that as soon as they returned and linked up the with elven defenders, that all of Haven would know of this little incident… unless he found some means of blackmailing the ottsel into silence. Yes, he'd have to find something like that, and fast…maybe the little furball talked in his sleep?

So lost was the familiar in his musings that was almost blown off of his perch when the Sand Shark rocketed forward. Jak was behind the wheel, and quickly got the small dune buggy up to its full speed as they shot past the ruined gates of Spargus and headed off in the direction of his homeland.

Valthos, up upon one of the walls, overseeing the repairs, felt a tear well up, and he quickly blinked it away, lest one of his people see it.

"Why didn't you tell him?" came a voice from behind.

He turned to find Sig staring at him, a strange look upon his dark skinned visage.

"Because, Sig," Valthos replied with a sigh, "that part of my life is dead and gone. I may have been his father, but I am not the one who raised him…" he said before trailing off. "I think it is for the best that he think that I am dead, for in a way, Damas is no longer among the living."

With that, the Sand King returned to his work.

However, images of the dark elf and the son that he had loved so dearly would not leave his mind's eye, and he hoped and prayed, that all would be well for him.

He'd been through too much to not have a happy ending to the sordid tale that had been his life thus far.

* * *

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* * *

Okay, once again, if this chapter sucks, I apologize, and for any glaring errors, they will hopefully be fixed shortly.

As before, if you have any ideas on weapons, powers, etc, let me know and I'll try to use em. If you have any other comments, from constructive criticism to flame, feel free to review.

Oh yes, something a friend sent me the other day, a cliché list of RPGs and the like, has caused me to laugh my heart out. Here are some selected things from it, a couple of which I am guilty of violating…

Cliché Number Two

**"No! My beloved peasant village!"**  
The hero's home town, city, slum, or planet will usually be annihilated in a spectacular fashion before the end of the game, and often before the end of the opening scene.

Cliché Number Nineteen

**"Silly Squall, bringing a sword to a gunfight..."**  
No matter what timeframe the game is set in -- past, present, or future -- the main hero and his antagonist will both use a sword for a weapon. (Therefore, you can identify your antagonist pretty easily right from the start of the game just by looking for the other guy who uses a sword.) These swords will be far more powerful than any gun and are often themselves capable of distance attacks.

Cliché Number Thirty Two

**You Can't Kill Me, I Quit! (Seifer Rule)**  
The good guys never seem to get the hang of actually arresting or killing the bad guys. Minor villains are always permitted to go free so they can rest up and menace you again later -- sometimes five minutes later. Knowing this rule, you can deduce that if you do manage to kill (or force the surrender of) a bad guy, you must be getting near the end of the game.

Cliché Number Thirty Three

**And Now You Die, Mr. Bond! (Beatrix Rule)**  
Fortunately for you, the previous rule also applies in reverse. Rather than kill you when they have you at their mercy, the villains will settle for merely blasting you down to 1 hit point and leaving you in a crumpled heap while they stroll off, laughing. (This is, of course, because they're already planning ahead how they'll manipulate you into doing their bidding later in the game -- see _Way To Go, Serge_.) (Kor shoulda read this one…)

Cliché Number Forty Seven

**We Had To Destroy The Village In Order To, Well, You Know The Rest (Selene Rule)**  
No matter what happens, never call on the government, the church, or any other massive controlling authority for help. They'll just send a brigade of soldiers to burn your entire village to the ground.

Cliché Number Forty Nine

**Maginot Line Rule**  
It is easy to tell which city/nation is the next conquest of the Evil Empire: its streets are filled with citizens who brag that the Empire would never dare attack them, and would be easily defeated if it tried. (This smug nationalism always fails to take into account the Empire's new superweapon.)

Hope you enjoyed these, will post some more with the next chapter.

Until then, have a great week!


	21. Homcoming

Once again, sorry for the delay, people, as I know you have doubtlessly been waiting for this one for a while. As it stands, I've had writers block, a hellish computer programming exam that I likely bombed (don't you hate it when a teacher makes half of the test based upon something that you covered for only about a day or two out of a three chapter test that you never even worked with on a computer before?)

Also, and I am praying that you don't kill me for this, I have been occupied trying to pen down the first few chapters of a second story that I have been trying to write. My first idea for writing was actually a Sonic the Hedgehog (Satam, as it was the cartoon series that I grew up with) story with a more militaristic twist, and I have finally resumed the courage to try to write it… though I am not sure how well it will be received by that community, as weapon use in those fics are highly unorthodox….

At any rate, I want to thank everyone who reviewed, especially those of you who reviewed anonymously and whom I have been unable to respond to (glares at administration). You guys give me the inspiration to keep going, and your ideas have allowed me to shatter writers block more times than any one person could do on his own. For that, you have my humblest thanks. (bows)

Lawyers: I own nothing, so bugger off!

That said, here is chapter twenty one, may it be worth your wait.

* * *

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* * *

Homecoming

The quartet was deathly silent as they approached the ruins of Haven City. Even from miles away, it was blatantly obvious that the Shield Wall was filled almost to the brim with smoke, and Jak was grateful that the Precursian helmet that he wore hid his look of despair as he finally gazed upon his home once more.

Haven City looked much like Spargus had when they had left. Through the shimmering fields of the Lockdown barriers, he could see the ruined districts. The sole hope that he took from looking upon his homeland was the Residential District, which gleamed pristinely, untouched by the ravages of this war. That silver lining meant there was a good possibility that most of the civilians, and at least some of the military, was still alive and intact, which meant that they yet had a chance, however slim it might have been.

"There's the hole," Keira said as she pointed out the breach in the Shield Wall, her voice once again subdued as she stared at the city.

"I see it," Jak responded as he slowed the Sand Shark down to a stop.

They'd go on foot from here, lest the noise of their buggy alert any Death Bots that might have been within hearing range. After all, whoever was leading those mechanized nightmares was a very cunning tactician, and it was not inconceivable that said leader might have left a rear guard to take care of any pesky intruders.

Thus, it was once again decided that Jak, with his ability to cloak himself, would take the point, and then signal to the others when it was safe to come.

* * *

The way had been clear, thankfully enough, but any relief that they might have felt over that was soon outweighed by the despair of seeing the city in ruins. The Industrial District had been hit hard in both the initial assault of the Death Bots, and debris was everywhere.

Even Daxter and Pecker forgot about their petty differences and bowed their heads as they thought of how many must have lost their life trying to hold this sector, and how many more had needlessly died later as Veger had ordered that foolhardy counteroffensive.

'**_We'll make them pay for this,' _**Kage growled quietly, the fires of vengeance burning brightly in his crimson eyes as he 'stared' around at the destruction. **_'I'll rip out their circuits with my bare talons!' _**

"I foresee a surge in the recycling business." His host growled out loud, his teeth bared in a feral snarl as he stared around, wondering where all of the guards were.

"Save your hatred for the Metal Heads." Keira muttered, causing everyone present to give her a look. "Advanced as they are, they're just machines, Jak." She explained, her voice filled with sorrow. "They can't do anything except what they're programmed to do, they're just slaves."

At once, the dark elf and the oni both understood why she was acting so strange. Keira had always had an aptitude for the mechanical, and it probably pained her to no end to see these battle droids, these marvelous technical creations, used as cannon fodder in a war. The Ascended Channeler nodded towards his wife, wondering what thoughts, if any, the Death Bots processed as they went about a battle. Were they truly cold hearted killing machines, or deep down, was it possible that they might have had feelings? What went through their motherboards when they saw one of their comrades fall in battle, did they feel anything, or was it all just logic to them?

An explosion sounded from some ways up, yanking all present out of any musings that they might have been having at the current moment, and causing them to exchange glances before they rushed up to where the blast had come from.

It did not take them long to reach the are from which the explosion had come from, and they ducked back into an alley, Keira and Jak both scanning around with their visors, attempting to discern what might have caused this building to suddenly go up in flames.

Gunfire split the air a moment later, and both Ascended Channelers exchanged glances at with one another, as this strange little twist played itself out.

They emerged from another alley a moment later, a group of a half dozen or so Freedom League troopers, clad in their battle armor and bracing themselves up against he walls, with two of them sticking their BR-55 rifles down the back street that they had come from and firing. They were using semi automatic fire, which meant they were going for precision from what Jak could tell, and that probably meant their ammo supplies weren't all that great.

He and his soul mate once more exchanged a look, before they decided that it was time that they officially announce their return. Telling Daxter and Pecker to stay put, they drew their Vibrium weapons, and charged out from their concealment, battle cries upon their tongues.

The blue armored soldiers that were about twenty feet away from them turned, and their jaws dropped as they saw these strange beings come from seemingly out of nowhere, and rush towards them. Some hesitated, not knowing what to make of these beings, while one leveled his weapon. However, speedy as they were, the two Ascended Channelers were past the group and into the other alley before the elf could fire off a shot at them.

There were battle droids present all right, a squadron of about ten Rollers, all of them unfurled and in their combat modes. They paused for all of a millisecond, and then reoriented their blasters at the two foes that were charging them. However, the two soul mates were not about to let the robots get a bead on them, as while they were certain that their armor would absorb the shots, they wished to keep their equipment in pristine condition for a later time when they might need it more.

With about thirty feet separating them from the foremost Death Bot, both of them leapt up into the air, and began to run along the walls. This had the desired effect of screwing with their adversaries aims. They could only keep their momentum up for so long running as they were, but the few seconds they had were more than enough to get them into attack range, and they leapt off the walls, coming straight at the bots in the front. Kitetsu and Masamune hissed and metallic shrieking split the air as the first two robots fell apart, having been cleaved in half.

Jak opted not to summon a phantom blade, knowing that the Eco Crystal in his sword's hilt was running low on Dark Eco, and that using it in a confrontation like this would be a waste. True enough, the dark katana and the Ataru fighting styles themselves would prove to be more than sufficient for dealing with the Rollers, as he decapitated his second opponent, bringing the runed blade up from the strike to deflect a few Eco bolts that were being thrown at him. This had the humorous result of throwing them directly back at the battle droid that had been responsible for the barrage. Several bolts slammed into its cranial area, tearing through its armor and shredding its vital circuits.

Keira, meanwhile, was putting her own Precursor crafted weapon to good use. She brought it in from the right, swinging it at an upwards angle at one of the mechanized soldiers. The Vibrium blade parted the titanium-A armor plating like it was parchment, and the bot fell apart, both halves of it sparking as she extended her hand. As it had with the Hunter Killer those weeks ago, a shield formed around it, blocking the shots from the Rollers as they tried to bring her down. However, unlike before, this shield did not go all the way around her, rather it formed a semi sphere and stopped. With a war cry, she charged forward, keeping the shield up as she approached her next victim. The Death Bot tried to back away from her, but it could not match the angelic Channeler's speed, and the next thing it knew, it was being driven into the wall as Keira rammed it.

Not wasting a second, the girl spun about, blocking a few more shots while readjusting her grip upon Masamune, thrusting it forward and impaling another one of the mechanized warriors.

She then dispelled the shield, and placed her naginata blade end first in the ground, before using it like a pole vault, leaping twenty feet up into the air, before performing a few flips and twists to keep the Death Bots from being able to accurately target her. She hit the ground in a crouch, her weapon thrust out fully and bisecting one of the battle droids.

Its companion fared no better, a wave of blue white fire turning it into a bubbling pile of slag a second later.

Jak was just as efficient when it came to dealing with his enemies, and the last of them hit the ground at the same time she finished, its wires sparking and its blasters harmlessly firing a few times as its protocols went haywire right before it went offline.

The dark elf spun the Blade of Mar around a few times, before effortlessly sheathing it back in its scabbard, and then walking back to the alley entrance, where the Freedom League soldiers were standing, their expressions one of those who had just been overwhelmed by what they saw. Daxter and Pecker were there as well, having emerged from the alley that they had been hiding in.

"Jak, Keira, nice one's there," The ottsel remarked, giving them a thumps up. His identification of the two armor clad elves, the blue armored soldiers present immeidiatly went ramrod straight.

"Who's in charge here?" Jak inquired, crossing his arms over his chest.

The soldiers, whether in awe over what they had witnessed or the fact that the elves before them stood clad in Mar's own armor, and what appeared to be a variation of it, took a moment or two to reply.

"That would be me, Sir," a young man said, stepping forward and saluting. It took a moment, but Jak recognized him after a second or two.

"Corporal Davis?" The dark elf said, somewhat surprised, but in a way happy to know that the elf was still alive.

"It's Sergeant Davis now, Sir," The elf replied with a weary smile, pointing to his rank bars on his shoulders.

A sergeant, which meant that he was in charge of a platoon of forty or so men and women. But if that was the case, then where were the others?

"Where's the rest of your platoon?" Keira asked, a note of uneasiness in her voice as she drew a conclusion.

"Platoon, ma'am?" the soldier said, before looking down at the ground and gesturing to the men and women around him. "These are all that's left of Fox and Gable companies out of the First Infantry Division."

The news hit the group like a ton of bricks, and all four felt their jaws drop as they let that bit of information soak in. Even Keira was surprised. They'd taken heavy losses in the Harbor Sector, but nothing like that.

"Twelve of you," she said, her voice quiet, "out of four hundred?"

"That's correct, ma'am," Benton replied, shaking his head. "Veger and the rest of the council steered us right into the biggest fierfeking ambush I've ever seen." He paused for a moment, before getting a hold of himself. "But I think we should save the whole story for a later time, we're a little exposed here and it's a wonder that the Death Bots aren't swooping down on us."

"Probably up at the front," A girl muttered.

"Yeah, but let's not take chances, Ariel," He responded, before turning back to the two Ascended Channelers. "We've got a base nearby, follow us and we'll lead you to it."

They nodded silently, before falling in behind the squad, their eyes darting about and ever alert for more trouble.

* * *

They reached the Freedom League base without further incident. The base, if it could truly be called that, was an abandoned warehouse on the far side of the Industrial District, and was currently the home for about three hundred soldiers, from what Benton had been telling them.

The quartet had just given each other all a look, as they let that sink in. They knew that some had to have escaped before the lockdown set in, but to have so few left from the hundred thousand soldiers that had marched in here just a few weeks ago, it was sobering news, to say the least.

"Come with me," Sergeant Davis said, motioning them to follow him while simultaneously dismissing the men and women under his command, "I've got to make my report, and I think our commander will be happy to see you guys again."

They marched through the warehouse, the two Ascended Channelers very much aware of all the stares that they were drawing from the soldiers. But they saw past those awe filled looks, they saw the soldiers who were wounded and couldn't get proper medical attention, they saw the fatigue in their eyes, the slump of their shoulders, and they saw the bitter resignation of the thousand yard stare. These troopers were about to come apart at the seams. They were overworked, and in need of rest, a few good meals, and some Green Eco to tend to their wounds.

"These guys aren't going to last much longer out here like this," Keira muttered over a private comm. channel. "They're ready to break."

"Tell me something I don't know," Her soul mate responded sadly, shaking his head as he looked at one particular soldier who seemed to be missing almost half of his face.

'**_We need to get them out of here somehow,' _**Kage mused, scratching his muzzle and trying his best to think of means by which they could extract these troopers before they all got waxed.

'_You're right about that,' _His host responded, though he too was at a loss for how they were going to pull that off with the Lockdown in effect and an army of battle droids surrounding them.

They fell silent after that, saving words until they met with this mysterious commander of these soldiers. They did not have to wait long, for as Benton rounded a corner, they could hear muttered voices, and knew that they had to be at the makeshift command office of this place. The sergeant saluted, and walked forward, and they saw him at last.

The soldier was clad in some very familiar gray battle armor, many areas of it now black from carbon scoring. His fiery hair was disheveled and looked like it hadn't been washed in quite some time, which was probably the case, seeing as how there weren't any showers around this place. 1st Lieutenant Cody Balic was hunched over a procured map of the sector, and was busy talking in hushed voices with a few other soldiers, also sergeants apparently.

"Sergeant Benton Davis reporting back in, Sir," their guide said, causing the Revenant to look up at him.

Whatever Cody had been about to say was immeidiatly forgotten as he looked to the blue armored soldier, and the warriors who were behind him. His eyes bulged and his mouth dropped open, as did those of his fellows, before they managed to compose themselves and assumed a stance more befitting a soldier.

"Jak?" the spec ops trooper inquired, guessing who it was from the ottsel that was riding upon his shoulder.

"That's correct, Cody," the dark elf replied as he and Keira removed their helmets, "nice to see your still breathing."

"I'm bloody lucky about that, Sir," the lieutenant replied, his New Zealander accent distorting his words slightly.

"Where's the rest of your group?" Jak asked, hoping that what he was thinking was incorrect.

"Probably back in the Residential Sector, Sir," Cody said, "I got separated from them during our little ill fated escapade here."

"And the rest of the soldiers?" Keira asked, fearing the worst.

"I'm not sure, but our best estimates from the reports we got before the Lockdown hit was that we might be looking at casualties as high as sixty percent, Ma'am, with most of those coming from the forward ranks." He said, before launching into his tale of what had happened in the Industrial District on that dark day.

"Dear gods!" Pecker exclaimed as Cody finished, his jaw dropping before he lowered his head.

"For once we agree on something," Daxter muttered quietly, his ears drooping as he thought of all the life that had been lost for nothing.

"Like I said, Sir," the Revenant replied, "we're in a bad way here. These soldiers are a few that we've managed to round up, and I think that they're all that's left from the guys who got trapped in here." He paused for a moment, sighing bitterly. "We've been trying to cause some trouble, but we've mostly been limited to hit and run raids, sabotage, that sort of thing. Silver lining might be that's probably why we're still alive."

"What do you mean?" Keira asked, cocking her head to the side.

"We haven't been a big enough problem for those Death Bots to root us out and take care of us." The lieutenant explained. "They've got bigger fish to fry, if you catch my drift, like trying to break the Lockdown and deal with this little insurrection on their hands."

"Insurrection?" Jak said, interrupting Cody and getting a nod from the red head.

"Yes, Sir, there seems to be something of a rebellion within their ranks."

"How?" Pecker asked.

"Not sure," Cody replied with a shrug, "but we've all seen the droids fighting in the streets, taking potshots at each other. It's like somebody's gotten a hold of them and screwed with their CPU's. I've even seen the Hunter Killers scrapping it out with each other."

"So it looks like the one that helped me out wasn't just some maverick…" Keira muttered, rubbing her chin. "That settles it then, someone or something is reprogramming these things and using them against the others."

"That's my best guess," the Revenant stated in a weary tone of voice, "and I'm just glad that whoever or whatever is doing it is on our side at the moment."

"What were you doing before we came in?" the dark elf asked, walking over to the map and looking over it.

"Trying to figure a way to get ourselves the bloody hell out of here, Sir," Cody said, frustration present in his voice.

"Why do you keep calling me sir?" Jak asked all of a sudden, giving the lieutenant a look.

"Oh," the heavy weapons expert exclaimed slapping himself upside the head, "I forgot, you wouldn't know." He smiled and looked up at the Ascended Channeler. "The Governess passed out a 'for eyes only' order to commanders loyal to her after you were banished. She wanted us to know that if and when you returned, and soldiers that encountered you were to treat you with the standing field rank of colonel." He paused for a moment, letting his statement sink in. "That effectively makes you the ranking officer here at the moment, Sir."

That bit of information nearly rocked Jak back on his heels, as it was the absolute last thing that he was expecting. For a moment, he just looked at Cody with a dictionary definition of a stunned expression upon his face. Then came the denial.

"But…" he began, only to find Cody holding up a hand.

"Sir, with all due respect, I think its one of the best decisions that Governess Ashelin has ever made." He looked the dark elf straight in the eye. "I've done my best here, Sir, but I'm trained for spec ops and small squad tactics, not leading a company and a half of men who are at the current moment, demoralized, starving, and ready to break and run."

"And you think I am?" Jak responded, placing two fingers against his chest for emphasis. "I haven't even been through boot camp!"

"Sir," the Revenant said, a crooked smile on his face, "That's true, but tactics and strategies can be learned. You've got something I don't: you're a natural born leader. That's something you've either got or you haven't." Jak still looked skeptical, so he continued on. "Sir, when the Metal Heads laid siege to the city, the people, the soldiers, and even General Praxis himself rallied to you. Do you know why, Sir?"

"Because Praxis figured out who I was," he grumbled.

"It's because you're a leader, Sir," Cody said. "People look at you and they follow you and fight to the death beside you because you are special. You've got a gods given talent for it, you follow me?"

"I still think you're wrong," Jak muttered, shaking his head.

'**_I am not quite so sure about that…' _**Kage mused, getting a 'look' from his host. **_'Valthos saw it in you as well.'_**

'_But I don't have any training in this area!' _his host exclaimed, frustration present in his voice.

'**_So? We've winged things before, haven't we?'_** the oni responded with a shrug, before crossing his arms and becoming serious once again. **_'Besides, if we get into trouble, we can just ask Cody what he would do. Right about now, I think our just being here and appearing to have some form of control over the situation might be enough to keep everything from falling apart.'_**

Jak was about to shoot something back at his alter ego, when he paused, and thought about what Kage was saying. It was certainly true that he lacked formal military training, but he had indeed led troops before, during the Metal Head attack upon the city those months ago. Still, he had a great deal of fear and uncertainty about this, and for good reason. The stakes were high to say the least, and one mistake could spell their doom. Not to mention that these troopers were already exhausted and looked as if they could have used a few week of R and R before being rotated back to frontline duty. He nearly sighed, and looked around the room, staring into the eyes of everyone who was present. They were all looking to him, hoping that he could somehow pull a miracle out of thin air and get them out of this mess that Veger had gotten them into.

He made a decision then, and prayed it was the right one.

"So what are we looking at here, Lieutenant Balic?" he inquired as he walked over and stared at the map, doing his best to try to put some confidence into his voice and remember how Torn used to do things back with the Underground.

"This is a map of the sewer system, Sir," the Revenant said, before tapping his finger against an area of it. "We're right here, and we've been trying to decide what the best course of action would be. We can't decide if we should try and make a break for the Residential Sectors," he said, pointing to that region on the map, and Jak noted that they'd have quite a bit of ground to cover. "Our only other option is to take a shorter, but likely more dangerous route through to the Harbor Sector, and see if we can't shore up the defenders that are in there."

Jak paused, rubbing his chin slightly, a frown upon his face as he considered the possibilities. Keira had told him that Torn and the others were in a lot of trouble in that region, and they'd likely need all the help that they could get in order to break through the enemy ranks, or to even hold them at bay if they were attacking through the sewers. Of course, that also meant that said sewers were likely swarming with both Metal Head and Death Bot reinforcements.

But he couldn't stomach the thought of just leaving them there, likely fighting for their lives, while he and the others bugged out.

"We're going to help out the soldiers in the Harbor," the dark elf stated, a grizzled, almost weary tone coming into his voice. He then looked at Cody. "Lieutenant, get your men together, we're moving out just as soon as they can grab their gear and get ready."

"Yes, Sir!" the Revenant said, before walking out of the command room and heading for the main troop areas.

The others followed him, Jak and Kage both trying to record every detail of what the gray armored soldier was about to do, knowing that if they were going to live up to the trust that had been placed in them, that they would need to remember this.

"Officer on deck!" Sergeant Davis shouted as they entered.

Slowly, the men and women present stood and got to attention, but one could tell that they were tired and ready to drop.

"At ease," Cody said, before looking around at them. "Soldiers, it has been decided that we need to leave this scrap heap." He paused for a moment, letting the thought sink into the troops. "We are going to be embarking upon a dangerous mission through the sewers of the city in the hopes of linking up with soldiers that are fighting in the Harbor Sector. Now grab what you can, and get ready to move!"

Everyone stood frozen for a moment, and then they dissolved into a strange, organized chaos. The soldiers, taking hope in the fact that they were going to try to get out of this mess, even if it meant wading into another one, felt their adrenaline surge, giving them the energy they would need to get this done.

Jak, Keira, and the others watched them scurry about for several minutes, grabbing weapons and ammo, grenades, launchers, mortars, a few morph guns, and a vulcan that someone managed to scrounge up.

Finally, it appeared as though everyone was as good to go as they were going to be, and they stood in ranks, awaiting their next order, looking at the lieutenant, who in turned looked at Jak. The dark elf could never recall having been so nervous, and he put his helmet back on, lest the troopers see the uneasiness in his eyes and lose what little hope they seemed to have gathered. He licked his lips, and stared around at them and realized how much faith they were placing in him, faith that was about to have a baptism by fire if there ever was one. Then, he willed the words to come forth.

"Move out!"

And then they were off, the troopers forming up behind him and his soul mate as they prepared for a do or die quest to reach their brothers and sisters.

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Ooookayyyy, know I'm getting really out ther, with Jak being 'adopted' by the military, but I figured that Ashelin would want to use him as a charismatic 'let's all rally around the guy whose saved our miserable hides more times than we'd care to recall' type leader.

Will be gone on a family trip for most of my upcoming spring break (leaving early tomorrow morning acutally), but I have managed to talk good ole mom into hauling around a laptop, so I should be able to get some writing done. That said, any ideas, comments, constructive criticism, or outright flames are more than welcome.

And finally, for your further entertainment, more clichés!

Cliché 43

**Midgar Principle**  
The capital of the evil empire is always divided into two sections: a lower city slum filled with slaves and supporters of the rebellion, and an upper city filled with loyal fanatics and corrupt aristocrats.

Cliché 62

**Thousand Year Rule**  
The Ancient Evil returns to savage the land every thousand years on the dot, and the last time it showed up was just about 999.9875 years ago. Despite their best efforts, heroes of the past were never able to do more than seal the Evil away again for the future to deal with (which brings up the question of just how exactly does this "sealing away" works anyway, but never mind.) The good news is that this time, the Evil will get destroyed permanently. The bad news is that you're the one who's going to have to do it.

Cliché 65

**First Law of Travel**  
Anything can become a vehicle -- castles, cities, military academies, you name it -- so do not be alarmed when the stones of the ancient fortress you are visiting shake underfoot and the whole thing lifts off into the sky. As a corollary, anything is capable of flight if it would be cool, aeronautics or even basic physics be damned.

Cliché 70

**Sixth Law of Travel**  
Nobody gets to own a cooler ride than you. If you ever do see a cooler vehicle than the one you've got now, at some point before the end of the game you will either take over this vehicle, get something even bigger and better, or else see it destroyed in a glorious blaze.

Clichés 76 and 77

**Magical Inequality Theorem**  
In the course of your travels you may find useful-sounding spells such as Petrify, Silence, and Instant Death. However, you will end up never using these spells in combat because a) all ordinary enemies can be killed with a few normal attacks, making fancy attacks unnecessary, b) all bosses and other stronger-than-average monsters are immune to those effects so there's no point in using them for long fights where they'd actually come in handy, and c) the spells usually don't work anyway.

**Magical Inequality Corollary**  
When the enemy uses Petrify, Silence, Instant Death, et cetera spells on _you_, they will be effective 100 of the time.

Cliché 105

**Law of Mooks**  
Soldiers and guards working for the Evil Empire are, as a rule, sloppy, cowardly and incompetent. Members of the heroic Resistance Faction are, as a rule, dreadfully weak and under trained and will be wiped out to the last man the moment they come in contact with the enemy.


	22. Linking Up

Hello once again people, and I hope you are having a good time. My trip was rather interesting, we went around to the southern area of Florida, checking out places and looking at future universities. However, we also got to drop by Medieval Times, which was awesome. You have to have reservations ahead of time, but you go in, and the serve you dinner in a middle ages fashion, while out in the arena you have a tournament for your entertainment. The knights perform everything from javilen throwing contest to jousts to sword combat, and it was also interesting to see the guy playing the king chug a entire mug of 'ale.'

At any rate, I apologize for the delay. I didn't get as much writing done as I would have liked, and then school kicked up, with my teachers trying to make up for lost time. Not to mention that I burned the living daylights out of my fingers the other day, and let me tell you, you never miss the middle and the ring finger of your left hand until you can't use em on the keyboard, as writing is a little difficult to say the least.

At any rate, thank you once again to everyone who reviewed (especially to those of you who reviewed anonymously and to whom I cannot reply due to the strange antics of our administrators.

Lawyers: I own nothing, back off!

That said, here is the twenty second chapter, may it hopefully be worth your while.

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Linking Up

The sewers were dark, dank, and smelled just as bad as they always had, which meant that at least one thing hadn't changed in all the time that Jak and Daxter had been away from Haven City. Only now, though, instead of swarming with Metal Heads, mutants, and the like, it was packed slam full of battle droids that could have been lurking around any corner, just waiting to ambush them.

The trip was a dangerous one, they knew that from the start. Trying to sneak more than three hundred men through a crowded area like this was bound to have some problems. However, Jak, who was up on point beside his wife, found it a little unnerving that they hadn't encountered any evidence of Death Bot patrols yet, save for a few shattered chassis and the like, which Keira quickly deduced were from the same mysterious auto turrets that shredded the patrol that she had come across. Apparently, the battle droids had gotten tired of losing forces to these strange weapons and had simply stopped attempting to patrol these areas of the sewers. However, Jak was still skeptical, and wondered if they might be walking into one of the traps that these killing machines were so well noted for being able to pull off.

His visor was set to its thermal viewing mode, and he kept his eyes roaming over his HUD, always glancing at the other helmet monitors and the motion sensor, lest something get the drop on them. Keira was doing much the same, though she had her own viewing mode set to its electronic detection mode, that way there was a chance that if something was missed by her husband's visor, that hers would pick it up. Cody rounded out the trio, having a light amplification built into his own helmet.

The Revenant was beside them as well, his morph gun braced against his shoulder as he constantly looked about, making use of his black ops skills and attempting to look for any potential ambush spots. He'd already been led into one trap, and he had no desire to repeat the experience, especially with the group behind him being a little shaky as it was.

Due to the sheer number of troopers that they were attempting to move, the going was slow, as many sported nasty wounds and had to be helped along by their comrades. It was clear that all of them were nervous, and they had good reason to be, considering all that was going on around them. Still, as Cody had predicted, they took faith in the return of Jak, that this strange hero who had come to save them in the darkest of times before would once again save their bacon.

They had been traveling in this agonizingly slow manner for nearly an hour, and Jak, taking a look at his compass, figured they had to be getting close to where the Harbor Sector was, and he began looking about, searching for a manhole cover or a service elevator of some sort. Instead, what he heard was a rhythmic stamping noise, and he immediately stiffened, bringing his left hand up into a fist, a signal for everyone behind him to stop.

HE motioned for Cody to join him, and with a thought, tapped into his cloaking ability. The gray armored soldier apparently realized the dark elf's intent a moment alter, as he activated his own active camouflage system and moved off after him.

Both moved slowly, and were ever cautious about their noise level, lest they do something that might alert whatever it was that was ahead of them, and bring them down on the soldiers. They had gone about a hundred or so feet up ahead when they noticed that the path they were taking narrowed significantly, the walls of the sewers closing in around them as they drew nearer to source of the noise.

When they finally reached the source, they stopped short, neither of them daring to move and scarcely daring to breathe. The tunnel that they were in opened up into a circular junction that was about fifty feet in diameter, give or take. They were about ten or so feet off of the floor, and as Jak looked about, he deduced that this must have been some sort of maintenance tunnel that he and Cody were standing in. However, that thought was only in his mind for the briefest of moments, as it was what was in the junction that truly held his attention.

His first thought was that these must have been the Hunter Killers that Keira had told him about, for he could scarcely think of anything else that could fit such a term. They were far larger than any battle droid that he had ever before seen. There were for of them all together, two that were sleek and looked to be fast, and two others that appeared to be large, lumbering, and had weapons literally sprouting from almost every conceivable place.

The two larger ones stood stock still, their heads slowly moving back and forth, scanning the area around them, while the two smaller ones were pacing around the chamber. Jak frowned, uncertain of how to proceed, when the decision was abruptly taken out of his hands. He would never know how they were seen, if some noise gave them away, or if these machines had some sort of heat sensing apparatus on them, but one of them abruptly jerked in their direction. He and Cody didn't' wait to see if it had spotted them, they took the liberty of bugging out then and there, practically racing back up the tunnel to where the others were.

"What is it?" Keira asked, her hand going to her weapon as she noted the speed with which her soul mate and Cody returned.

"We got company," the lieutenant said, looking back over shi should, as if he expected the machines to come charging down the tunnel any second.

"Four Death Bots," Jak said, crossing his arms and frowning beneath his helmet. "I think they're those Hunter Killers you told me about."

"Describe them," his wife said, before Cody cut her off.

"It's a pair of Vipers with some Firestorms backing 'em up," he said.

Instantly, hushed whispers and a few whimpers broke out among the soldiers behind them, and Jak briefly wondered what experiences they must have had, what horrors they must have witnessed, to make them react like that a t the mere mention of the names of the machines.

"Tell me about them," he said, looking intently at the Revenant.

"The Vipers were the smaller ones," he said, never taking his eyes off the distant tunnel. "We call them that because their fast, and they've got a nasty bite if they get up close to you, what with those bloody plasma claws they've got on their left arm. They've also got a nasty blaster, missile launchers, an energy cannon, and some kind of grenade launcher on their shoulders."

"And the big ones?" Jak ventured.

"Those are the Firestorms."

"Who came up with that name?" Daxter asked, rolling his eyes at something that sounded like it came from a bad comic book.

"Sergeant Davis," Cody informed the ottsel, "and we figured it rather appropriate, seeing as how they've got a flamethrower mounted on their left arm. Their other equipment includes that cannon they've got on their hands, more missiles, a shoulder mounted machine gun, and some other weapon on their back, which we've never seen them use," he paused for a moment, remembering when the one he'd faced on the day of the ill fated assault nearly shot said weapon at him. "And frankly, Sir, seeing as to the size of it, I'd rather not ever see it used."

Jak paused for a moment, looking out over the ranks of the Freedom League troopers. Once again, they were looking to him to pull them out of the fire this time, to save them from a foe they could not match, not in their current state at any rate.

"Keep your men and women here, lieutenant," he said, after a moment or two, "Keira and I will deal with these Hunter Killers."

The dark elf then looked over to his wife, and she nodded, before following him up to where the junction was, the two of them steeling themselves for the battle that was coming. Jak had never faced these machines before, but from everything that he had been told about them, he knew they were extremely deadly adversaries that he would have to treat with caution if he wished to walk away from this scrap without any serious injury.

Slowly, ever so slowly, they approached the junction, not wishing for the slightest hint of their presence to be given away, just in case that Viper had gotten a look at him and Cody earlier. When then arrived, the two of them carefully scoped the area out one final time, before they decided on a battle plan. The machines were still in place, and if they had noticed the earlier scouting attempt, they were staying put, perhaps because they though that Jak and Cody had been bait to lure them away from the area they were supposed to guard.

"We need to split them in half," Keira said over a private channel, her voice grim and determined. "We should try and take out the Firestorms first, but keep your eye open for those Vipers, you don't want to get blind sided by them, believe me."

'**_Yes indeed,' _**Kage mused, a smile of bizarre amusement on his face, **_'with them having as much firepower as they do and this being a rather enclosed area, it could get a little hot under the collar for us if we don't take care of them.' _**

Jak remained silent, but he concurred with his alter ego, bad pun and all. Then he glanced over to Keira one last time, and the two of them prepared for battle. He quietly drew Kitetsu, and decided that using up some more of its dwindling Dark Eco reserves was a necessary risk under the given circumstances, and so he summoned a phantom blade as well. Then, with the two dark katanas ready, he concentrated, putting the image in his mind of the area right in front of one of the Firestorms. A moment later, a crack split the air, and naught remained of him but dispelling vapors of Dark Eco.

Keira followed through with a trick of her own. For a second, she seemed to waver and her form distorted slightly, until she was semi transparent, her form resembling that of a ghostly figure. The angelic Channeler then leapt out, leaving behind her an after image that was similar to Kage's as she moved far faster than she ever had before.

Another crack split the air, and her husband appeared right in front of the first Firestorm, both of his blades already hissing as they moved in to pierce metal and circuitry. However, the Firestorms' might have been large and slow on the move, but their reaction times were certainly above par and the three ton machine leapt back with speed that was beyond what any normal elf could have hoped to match. It took it all of a nanosecond to figure out what was going on, and it and its comrades quickly moved in to battle, raising their weapons and firing in quick, calculated bursts.

Jak found himself unable to pursue his target, as he was forced to turn and deal with the shoulder mounted machine gun on the shoulder of the other Firestorm. He worked both Kitetsu and its shadowy copy back and forth in a perfect defensive unison, both blades whirling as they formed a Vibrium and Dark Eco shield to protect him from the bolts of the weapon. Shots of Eco pinged and ricocheted off of the blades as they blurred through the air, and with a little effort, he was even able to send a few back at the attackers. However, he then discovered first hand why the Hunter Killers were so lethal: they could take it as well as dish it out. The Eco bolts impacted upon the chassis of the Firestorm, but did little other than scratch its paint job.

He saw movement in one of his peripheral viewing screens, and he instinctively threw himself to one side. It was a good thing that he did, as not a second later he felt the heat backwash from a small missile that passed through the area that he'd been occupying. The missile exploded against a far wall, and he looked up to see that the Death Bot, one the one he'd initially tried to skewer, was already reorienting its side mounted launchers.

However, there was precious little that he could do about it, as a Viper came charging into battle, its plasma claws cocked back and its overdrive boosters shooting it forward at frightening speed. The dark elf threw himself backwards, letting himself hit the ground and roll back as the thing shot past him. However, while single minded in its determination to destroy any and all opposition to its cause, the Viper was anything but stupid, and it immediately pivoted around, and fired off a six shot burst from its submachine gun.

Jak, down on the ground with no way to move, took the rounds in the side. Much to his relief, though, his armor was up to the task of protecting him, and he only felt a little bit of impact from the Eco bolts as they smashed into the region covering his ribs.

Not wishing to give his mechanized foe another shot at him, the Ascended Channeler was back on his feet in an instant, charging towards the Hunter Killer, his blades weaving around in a dizzying pattern as he tried to confuse the machine. He met it blade for claw a second later, and found himself with a bit of a surprise. The machine blocked his first two strikes, then leveled its blaster at his gut and opened fire. He instinctively twisted to the right, putting a bit of jump into his motion to try and throw it off, and then the irony of the situation struck him. The thing was fighting with both plasma claw and gun simultaneously, using both its long and short ranged weapons at the same time to try and keep him off balance and on the defensive, just as he had once done before his Channeling powers had reawakened.

Well, it looked as if he was going to have to be able to conquer his past self, something that while certainly not an easy feat, he felt confident he could do.

However, move movement in his peripheral visor caught his attention and he found his eyes widening as a jet of oily flames came flying in at him. He immediately hit the deck, rolling around on the ground to dodge the attack. Making a mental note to not forget about the Firestorm as he rolled once again to avoid being skewered by the Viper's plasma claws, the dark elf prepared himself for his next move. A moment passed and he jumped up, both of his blades extended outward as he twirled around like a ballerina. The Viper shot backwards, but not quite fast enough. Kitetsu hit home upon its torso, and there was the shriek of splitting metal as the Precursor forged weapon sliced through its armor.

Unfortunately, the two ton killing machine had been fast enough to avoid any major damage to its circuits, and after a quick self diagnostic and initiation of its self repair systems, it charged back into the fight, its gun blazing until it closed the distance between it and its adversary.

Keira, meanwhile, was faring slightly better than her soul mate when it came to fighting these dangerous machines. After all, she had faced them in combat before, and first hand experience, the knowledge of how your foe would react under a given circumstance, was among the greatest advantage one could have, and it was an edge that her opponents did not possess, and she knew that.

She charged towards her Firestorm knowing that while it might have been packing enough weaponry to level a city block, that most of those weapons were geared towards long range, and that up close, she would hold all the cards as long as she kept an eye on the flamethrower.

As she came in, that was exactly what her adversary attempted to do, raising its arm and sending a burst of fire at her. In response, the angelic Channeler merely extended her hand, and a second or so later, the ever familiar whitish blue shield sprang to life. The flames impacted, but the lethal blaze could not penetrate the barrier, and the girl smirked behind her helmet, her gaze narrowing as she continued to push forward.

Realizing its target's intent, the Firestorm immediately called for a Viper to come to its aid. The one that was not involved with Jak immediately answered the call of its comrade in arms, is jet boosters carrying over to the fight, its weapon spitting Eco bolts out on full automatic as it attempted to distract its target. However, Keira had great faith in the armor that had been crafted for her, and she let the protective gear take the shots while she got to within striking distance of the Firestorm, and thrust her naginata forward with all of her might, attempting to run it through.

The machine tried to doge, but its armor slowed its movements. It was able to dodge to a degree, making the strike that Keira nailed home the equivalent of a minor gash along what would have been the ribcage of an organic creature, but its processor brain immeidiatly realized the trouble that it was going to be in if it couldn't find a way to back off and bring its heavier weapons to bear upon the angelic Channeler. Apparently, while its armor was heavy enough to thwart all but the heaviest of elven weaponry, weapons of Vibrium make had not been though of during its planning process.

Keira then put Masamune into a deft spin, and she felt a minor bit of resistance as the blade end of the polearm struck home once more. The Firestorm let out an electronic wail, and its left arm fell to the ground, twitching as electricity sparked along severed wires and hydraulic fluid leaked out of it.

Her foe was now crippled, but unlike an elf or a Metal head, who would have been on the ground, screaming in pain at the loss of a limb, droids felt no agony, and it was still in this fight. However, before she could capitalize upon the damaged Hunter Killer and try to rectify that small problem, the Viper had gotten into melee distance, and she was forced to give it the greater part of her attention while it tried to buy time for its comrade to fall back and get its shoulder mounted weaponry up and running.

Keira met her lightning fast opponent slash for slash, thrust for thrust. She, unlike Jak, was not the least bit surprised when the Viper began to employ the use of both its gun and its claws at the same time. Instead, as the Hunter Killer went to do that, it found itself dealing with a target that was darting and ducking around, trying to be everywhere at once. However, it was skilled in its job, and no amount of flashy blade work could cause it to be intimidated or to lose heart in its cause.

As she dove to one side, intending to come up from behind and rip its back wide open, she found that her foe had anticipated the maneuver, and she was forced to perform a hasty back flip to put herself out of harms way as the plasma claws slashed down at her.

Now that had caught her off guard, and she mentally scolded herself as a lull came in the fight, both waiting for the other to make the first move. At the same time, she couldn't help but how in the name of the Ancients that the killing machine had known what she was about to do, and she decided to try an experiment.

She rushed the machine, Masamune cocked back for a mighty swing, which she aimed for its head. But then, at the last possible second, she changed the course of her swing, and instead went after its legs. To her mild surprise, the machine jumped over the attack, landing with a loud 'crunch' as its feet hit the dura-crete floor with enough force to leave a good number of cracks. Again the question blared in her mind: how had it known what she was about to do? The feint had been simple enough, one of the first things that Ariki had had her polish up while they had been sparring. However, the speed at which she had changed her attacks would have caught all but the most alert and observant off guard, one would have practically had to have known the attack was coming to anticipate it. While that might not have been very difficult for a Precursor, since their warriors were literally trained from birth to fight, these things, while powerful in their own right, were nowhere near that level of skill, especially on an individual level and when in areas that were not quite so cramped.

That left one disturbing conclusion in her mind as she thought about it. The way that these Hunter Killers seemed almost overpowered and unnecessary, given the amount of forces that the robotic army already had at its disposal, and their abnormally high artificial intelligence, comboed up with the fact that she knew that the Death Bots were some how being controlled the by the Fallen Ones…

Could it be, she wondered, that these machines had been originally intended to be used against the Precursors themselves, that the elves were merely a testing ground, a proving field to determine their effectiveness against real opponents before moving on to their true task? The idea was a chilling one, as while she knew that an ordinary Precursor, even the young children that were being trained, would likely be more than a match for several of these things, Hunter Killers could be mass produced off an assembly line, something the Ancients couldn't claim.

She was suddenly aware of the Viper leaping back up into the air once more, only this time with a strange pulsing shriek coming from behind it. Instinctively, she looked up to follow it, and almost missed the large flash of light coming form behind it. She had just enough time to realize that the Firestorm, which had maneuvered itself to where it was behind its speedier comrade, had taken a shot at her, and she tapped into her powers, her form becoming wraith like and ghostly and she dodged out of the way, shouting a warning to her husband at the same time.

She watched on her peripheral screens as he saw the attack coming, and both he and the Viper he was tangled up with made haste to get out of the way in time. Both did so, but Keira had decided that enough was enough, and that it was more than time to end this. As the Viper was landing, she extended her hand, and a ball of white fire formed in the palm. One effort of will later, it was on its merry little way, and it smashed dead on into the Firestorm, enveloping it in a pyre of what would have passed for divine wrath. However, the angelic Channeler entertained nary a delusion about that being the end of the machine, and she charged forward, focusing all of her fury into the next blow, knowing that she would have to make it count.

As the fires dissipated, they revealed the heavier Hunter Killer, which was battered, but still 'alive,' and that it was leveling the massive, bazooka styled gun in its right hand to once more try to shoot her. She then, with a masterful display of acrobatics, proceeded to finish the job. She stuck Masamune out in front of her at a horizontal angle, and as she approached the Firestorm, quickly spun it around. Once again, metal shrieked and fell to the ground a moment later, as the large cannon was sliced in half. She then planted the blade end of the naginata into the ground, before using it like a pole vault, leaping up off the ground and lashing out with both of her feet, planting them right into its cranium. The machine staggered backwards, and Keira could tell that even now, it was trying to bring one of its shoulder mounted weapons into the fight, apparently not caring if it destroyed itself in the process so long as she went down with it.

Fortunately, she knew better than to give it such an opportunity, quickly whipping her Precursor forged blade out of the ground and striking. The attack was true, and the next thing that the Firestorm knew, it had just been cut off at the waist. Once again though, unlike a living being, such a devastating blow was not necessarily fatal to a machine, particularly one of Hunter Killer tenacity and fortitude, and she had to make certain that it was dead for good.

A moment later, the Viper once again tried to intercede on the behalf of its partner. Deep down, Keira couldn't help but hope that somewhere, deep beneath the protocols and combat programming, that there might be something more too these things than mindless killing machines, it just seemed so sad, when one thought about it, that their sole purpose was to destroy until they themselves were destroyed.

It was a situation she found hauntingly similar to the origins of her own kind. After all, she could hardly forget that the Channelers themselves were created in much the same fashion.

Still, whether or not there was something more than cold, unfeeling logic coming from the battle droids, they were adversaries that were keeping them from getting to where Torn and the others were and doubtlessly needed any reinforcements that they could get their hands upon.

As the Hunter Killer lunged at her, its plasma claws thrust forward and its gun firing, she once again did what she had termed a 'phase' and quickly moving in behind the machine. It reacted quickly, but it wasn't fast enough to stop her from getting a good thrust in on it, piercing through the back of its armor and out through the front. Knowing, once again, that the thing was still very much kicking, she quickly retreated as it whipped itself around.

While flipping out of the way, she took care to lash out with Masamune, and she succeeded in decapitating the Firestorm. Now, without having to worry about that thing shooting her in the back, she could hurry up and dispatch its speedier comrade. Without a second thought, she lunged at the Viper, her naginata spinning around so quickly as to be nothing more than a circular blur. She feinted high, before making it look like she was heading for an attack at the legs once again. However, the moment the Death Bot leaped into the air, she once more reversed direction, bringing the Vibrium blade up towards its mid section.

As the blade tore through the armored chassis, she twisted her grip and sent it upwards, tearing through everything in its path until it finally exited the head of the machine. With a thundering crash, the Viper fell to the ground, where it twitched out the last few moments of its life.

On the other side of the junction, Jak heard the commotion, and quickly figured out what must have happened. Having never fought these mechanized nightmares before, he wasn't faring quite as well as Keira had, but he was rapidly beginning to understand the nature of their fighting styles, which relied very heavily upon teamwork and intense coordination. The easiest way to bring them down, therefore, seemed to be to sever that link. Seeing as how they had a private comm. system, from what his wife had told him, that meant he was going to have to take one of them out for good.

'**_I'd like to cast my vote for the one trying to carve us up!' _** Kage snarled as his host leapt backwards away from a blow that was aimed at bisecting him.

Jak didn't respond, but he knew that the oni was right, however dangerous the Firestorm was, with its arsenal of firepower, it was not as dangerous as the Viper at the moment, which was slashing at him with rapid, expertly time chops and thrusts, and it was almost always taking potshots at him with that blasted submachine gun it was carrying.

For several more moments, they battled amongst each other, as Vibrium and superheated plasma connected with each other, the wielder of each vying for dominance. Jak blocked the plasma claws, and then lashed out with the copy of Kitetsu, his blow intended for the head of the Viper, a blow that would have decapitated the two ton killing machine had landed. However, with agility that one would not expect from something of that bulk, it ducked and twisted about, bringing its gun to bear once again as it tried to take down its superhuman foe.

However, Jak had had quite enough of that, and he basically hoped that the Armor of Mar truly was all that it was cracked up to be. He let the shots impact upon the chestplate of the armor, and breathed a mental sigh of relief that was probably unnecessary as the Vibrium held up. Without a moment's hesitation, he stabbed the shadow blade forward. The Dark Eco blade punched through with only the barest hint of resistance, and he then twisted the blade, creating a rather sizeable hole in the machine. At the same time, he ducked, breaking the blade lock that he had with the Hunter Killer, and cutting its legs out from under it before it could react.

However, as Keira and the others had discovered in their somewhat ill fated attempt to seal off the tunnels from the Death Bot forces, he soon found out that such a maneuver did not immediately guarantee that a Viper would be rendered helpless. As soon as it lost its connection with its legs, it activated its jets, buying it another minute or so in which it hoped to take down its enigmatic foe. Jak, caught off guard by this sudden change of events, threw himself to the side as the Hunter Killer tried to take another swipe at him.

Fortunately, he did react fast enough to avoid the blow and he and Kage were left to take a careful reevaluation of the situation that they were in.

'**_Where's the other one?' _**The Dark Eco demon asked abruptly, causing Jak to suddenly glance about his peripheral screens to see if he could spot the lumbering Firestorm, though he was careful not to allow himself to become too distracted that the Viper could jump him.

What he found, much to his amazement, was Keira shooting past him, Masamune lighting up the darkness of the junction as she twirled it around, on a collision course with the Firestorm. As she had before, she created a shield around herself, protecting her from the firepower that the large battle droid sent flying at her. Up close, and without the aid of a Viper, it was no match for her, and she quickly reduced it to a pile of sparking circuitry. She then placed her naginata gently against the ground, butt side first, and watched her husband as he tried to hurry and wrap up his scrap.

He very rapidly did so. Deciding that he had had quite enough of this mechanized menace in front of him and realizing that its movement was somewhat limited with only its jet boosters to keep it aloft, he tapped into the full offensive powers of the Juyo fighting style. Anyone watching then would finally understand why Mar had opted to name the style 'blade storm' for that was indeed what the dark elf became.

As fast at the Viper's CPU and servos were, it suddenly found itself to be no match for the whirling vortex that seemed to have appeared in front of it. Within two seconds, Jak had knocked its plasma claws out wide, and then performed a forward summersault, bringing both Kitetsu and its phantom twin down from above and tearing a massive 'X' shaped gash in its torso. However, the machine remained combat capable, despite the damage, and he and Kage both growled at its stubbornness.

Not letting up, he leapt into the air once more, spinning around and extending both blades outward in an attempt to get the machine once and for all. Unfortunately, it was able to use its claws to block the attack, and it then proceeded to bring its gun up, leveling it right at Jak's face. The Ascended Channeler twisted as he hit the ground, a split second before the weapon fired, letting the Eco bolts sail harmlessly past his head. He brought both blades up after that, deciding to try and take a leaf out of the book of that doppelganger that he had faced back in Mar's Tomb, if slightly modified. He thrust both katanas forward, a feint that the Hunter Killer bought, as he brought its claws down to try and block both at once.

At the last second though, he twisted the shadow blade out of the path, and lashing out, was rewarded with the sight of the submachine gun that it carried falling in half. Without a moment of hesitation, he reversed the direction of the attack, bringing the weapon up and cleaving into the chassis of the Viper.

The blow severed the primary power generator from the rest of it, and with a quite moan, its jets shut down and it dropped to the floor.

As it did, he smiled grimly, before looking over to his wife. The way she was standing and the manner in which she had her head cocked let him know that even though he couldn't see her face, she was smirking at her.

"Don't give me that look," he grumbled, pointing Kitetsu at her and shaking it slightly, "you've fought these things before, I haven't!"

"Like that ever stopped you from showing off before," she responded matter of factly with a slightly teasing undertone.

Before their little argument could continue, both caught sight of something on their peripheral monitors: Cody and the rest of the Freedom League soldiers were standing at the entrance to the junction, apparently having been drawn by curiosity, their orders notwithstanding. For a moment, Jak felt like scolding them for needlessly risking themselves, but then something happened that made him change the way in which he thought about it.

"Holy…" Sergeant Davis said, his tone the definition of awe, before turning to another sergeant, who had a black box camera attached to his helmet. "Please tell me you got that on tape."

The response that he got was a slow nod, as if the other trooper was still trying to compute what he had just witnessed.

"Nice bit of film work, there, soldier," Cody replied, patting the trooper on the back. "We get this bit of footage back to HQ, put it up on the news, and the whole town gets to watch the enemies greatest killing machines get ripped apart like it was child's play."

Though it hadn't quite been that easy, both of the Ascended Channelers instantly understood what the Revenant was on about. With all that had gone wrong, morale was probably in something of a slump, and soldiers who were depressed generally didn't fight quite as well as they might have otherwise. That bit of film would, when combined with Jak's return, and the knowledge of yet another Ascended Channeler amongst them, would provide a boost that was no doubt badly needed.

"Well, now that we've turned those things into slag, can we get moving?" came the voice of Daxter, his arms crossed and his famous 'I really want to get the heck out of here' look on his face.

Wordlessly, the troops formed up behind Jak and Keira, and they were once more on their way.

* * *

The rest of the trip was without incident. Apparently, with the majority of their forces either pounding the living daylights out of the Lockdown force fields or dealing with the maverick forces, whoever had been put in charge of the Death Bots apparently figured that four Hunter Killers would be more than enough to hold off any attempts for the elves to move their forces around. Under normal circumstances, they likely would have been right, but Jak figured that he and Keira hadn't been put into the equation yet. However, if things continued like they traditionally did for him and everyone around him, that advantage wouldn't be theirs for much longer, as their foes had a nasty habit of putting two and two together very quickly.

Still, he would take any reprieve, however brief, that he could get his hands on.

As they approached a large cargo lift, the dark elf couldn't help but wonder why the Death Bots had never attempted to punch through this way. However, as they rounded the final corner, they found the remains of another mechanized battle group. What made this one different was that in addition to the wreckage of Rollers and Hawks, were what were unmistakably the remains of what had once been Hunter Killers.

Almost before he could process that little revelation, there came a whirring sound, and he looked up, ready to throw himself to one side in the event that the source of the noise proved hostile.

Indeed, it certainly looked that way at first, as the source turned out to be no less than a dozen autoguns that were certainly not of elven origins. Keira immeidiatly recognized them as the same kind that she'd seen rip apart that patrol group on her way out of the city to find Jak. She held her breath, unsure of how they would react to their presence, and suddenly very much aware of just how much she and her soul mate resembled machines while wearing their armor.

However, the guns did not fire, and instead seemed to twist and turn about, almost as if they were studying the two of them. Finally, after several anxious moments, the guns retracted back up to the ceiling, leaving the way to the lift clear.

The lift could only hold about twenty five people at a time, so several shifts would be necessary to get everyone out of the sewers. But after all that they had been through, the survivors could have cared less about that. Jak and Keira, with Daxter and Pecker upon their respective shoulders, were on the first group up, just in case there was trouble in the Harbor.

As they approached the top, and the doors began to open, letting light spill into the compartment that they were in, the dark elf smiled. For once, it looked as though things might actually turn out okay for the good guys.

* * *

The construct paused for just a nanosecond, contemplating what this change of events could mean. Jak had returned, and he had apparently brought a friend with him, though it couldn't tell who exactly. However, the A.I. was well aware that if the other being was anywhere near the Ascended Channeler as far as its powers were concerned, then a turning of the tide might just be in their near future.

Its own situation was somewhat grim. Since declaring open war, and revealing that it had managed to commandeer quite a few of the Death Bot forces, they had been ruthlessly attacked, fighting off nearly overwhelming odds. Still, its own forces fought just as tenaciously as those of the enemy, and they had the advantage of being the defenders. Besides, it knew that every day it managed to keep the Death Bots and their own commander distracted, was one more day that the elves had to get their act together and marshall their forces in preparation for the assault that was coming.

It once more turned the situation around in its mind, thinking of what it might do, now that Jak was back.

After another bit of thinking, it decided on a hesitant, and rather cautious approach of them through their comm. systems. Normally such contact from the outside would be jammed, but as a self aware computer, it was infinitely more capable than the jamming systems. Furthermore, its regular system monitoring indicated that the elves in the Harbor Sector had managed to get a splicing job on the cables in the sewers, and were in contact with the main HQ. Such a connection should work both ways, which would make it all the easier.

Less than a millisecond after it had initially began the current thought process, the construct reached a decision.

* * *

Off in a far distant base, surrounded by his comrades as they frantically rushed around, gathering supplies, weapons, and vehicles, Tarath Shien thought about what was coming, and once again, his thoughts began to travel backwards to a time in which he had found peace and solace for one of the few times in his millennia long life.

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Okay, calling it there.

The next chapter will probably be another Tarath flashback, this time of when he's observing the early elves, and actually sets in motion the events that will lead to the Channeler project (and hopefully I'll be able to throw in the first appearance of the Metal Heads.)

At any rate, I want to thank you all for taking the time to read this, and if you have any comments, ideas, constructive criticisms, or even want to flame me because I screwed up royally, feel free to do so.

Thanks, and have a great week. I'll leave you with the usual clichés.

Cliché 85

 **Dungeon Design 301**  
All "puzzles" in RPG dungeons can be sorted into one of the following types:

finding some small item and sticking it into a slot;

pushing blocks (rocks, statues) onto switches;

pulling switches or levers to open and close doors;

learning the correct order/position of a group of objects;

entering a certain combination of doors;

something involving a clock or elevator;

something that is unsolvable because a vital clue in the dialogue was mistranslated out of Japanese.

Cliché 86

**Wait! That Was A Load-Bearing Boss!**  
Defeating a dungeon's boss creature will frequently cause the dungeon to collapse, which is nonsensical but does make for thrilling escape scenes.

Cliché 91

**Wherever You Go, There They Are**  
Wherever the characters go, the villains can always find them. Chances are they're asking the guy in the street (see above). But don't worry -- despite being able to find the characters with ease anytime they want to, the bad guys never get rid of them by simply blowing up the tent or hotel they're spending the night in. (Just think of it: the screen dims, the peaceful going-to-sleep-now music plays, then BOOM! Game Over!)

Cliché 121

**Child Protection Act (Rydia/Janus Rule)**  
Children 12 and under are exempt from death. They will emerge alive from cataclysms that slaughter hundreds of sturdily-built adults, often with barely a scratch. Further protection is afforded if the catastrophe will orphan the child.

Cliché 124

**Gojira Axiom**  
Giant monsters capable of leveling cities all have the following traits:

Low intelligence

Enormous strength

Projectile attacks

Gigantic teeth and claws, designed, presumably, to eat other giant monsters

Vulnerable to weapons 1/10,000th its size

Ecologically sensitive

Cliché 133

**Last Rule of Politics**  
Kingdoms are good. Empires are evil.

Cliché 139

**The Ominous Ring of Land**  
The classic Ominous Ring of Land is a popular terrain feature that frequently doesn't show up on your world map. Just when you think things are going really well and you've got the Forces of Evil on the run, monsters, demons and mad gods will pour out of the center of the ring and the situation will get ten times worse. The main villain also usually hangs out in one of these after attaining godhood. If there are several Ominous Rings of Land or the entire world map is one big ring, you are just _screwed_.

Cliché 140 (anyone who plays Chrono Trigger is familiar with this one)

**Law of NPC Relativity (Magus/Janus Rule)**  
Characters can accomplish superhuman physical feats, defeat enemies with one hand tied behind their back and use incredible abilities -- until they join your party and you can control them. Then these wonderful powers all vanish, along with most of their hit points.


	23. First Contact

(warps in, clad in riot equipment and ballistics shield)

"Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated" – Mark Twain.

Hello people, I know its been a while, but suffice to say that my personal life has been an absolute hell of late. Between exams, college applications, and writers block, this story got pushed to the back burner. I also suffered a major blow to my confidence (don't give me that look!) a couple of weeks back, as I was turned down by the Odyssey Workshop, and it took me a while to get back to writing.

Also, as a forewarning, I have been unable to get into contact with my beta reader (think hotmail's screwing me over again) so this chapter might have some errors in it. Might as in more than likely.

Many thanks to all of you who reviewed and I once again offer my sincerest apologies on not updating sooner. However, I hope to be back to a weekly update soon.

Lawyers- Me still no own, so leave me be!

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First Contact

It was nearly two days of aimless riding when he finally realized where he was heading.

He had barely slept, but he still felt no weariness, for the pain clouded it, kept his body from realizing that it needed to rest and recharge.

Now, as he stared up at a distant range of mountains, the Reaver felt something else edge in alongside the pain that he felt. It was curiosity, an age old desire to find out about something he didn't know that drove him onward. Thus, driven by this, and the hopes that perhaps a few hours of observing the natives of the place would take his mind off his grief, he quickly accelerated towards the mountain range, and to the strange creatures that he knew dwelled within.

* * *

He'd left the Stinger back down at the base of the mountains some hours ago, and from there he had flown over it, quickly covering the icy peaks and heading down into the sheltered valley below.

At first glance, not much had changed in the six years since he'd been here last, but he'd learned enough about the world to realize that first glances were rarely all that accurate.

One thing did puzzle him, and that was that throughout his time being here, that he had uncovered clearings similar to the ones that he'd stumbled across the last time that he was in this place, and they did indeed show signs of recent occupation, but there were no dwellings to suggest that anyone lived there at the current moment.

What might have happened then? Could a famine have hit this place? Unlikely, judging by the amount of game that he saw running about. Perhaps a disease then? His own people knew enough of medicine and the like that such life threatening pathogens were a thing that had been all but forgotten, but somehow he doubted that these pale creatures had enough knowledge or technology to ward off bacteria and viruses to that degree.

And then perhaps… a war…

Such a thought, coming into a mind already wearied by conflict on such an unimaginable and devastating scale, was heartrending beyond words, and he prayed to whatever merciful deity might have been listening, that that would not be the case.

However, his hour's long musings over the fate of these strange, long eared sentients was suddenly brought to an abrupt and grinding halt as a sound reached his ears that he pretty much hadn't heard since he'd gotten out of the classrooms of his youth: the yowl of a large cat.

It was followed by a cry that contained several various sounds that the Praetor assumed were words of some sort. Obviously, this meant only one thing: these creatures were still here, and from the sound of things, stirring up a fight with the other local predators.

Driven by a reckless curiosity, the dark armored warrior raced off in the direction of the noise, eager and fearful of what he might find. About thirty seconds of dashing just off the ground (lest his large frame crashing through the underbrush of this forest alert either of the two beings ahead of him) was all that was needed to get him to the scene of the action.

What he saw took his breath away.

In a display of what could only have been an ancient battle for dominance, a large, brown and black striped cat paced back and forth in front of one of the pale skinned creatures. Off to one side, he also noticed the carcass of a creature that he knew to be a deer, which had one of those primitive arrows sticking out of the side.

In an instant, he put two and two together.

The pale skinned creature had obviously been out hunting, and managed to bag himself dinner, and the cat, no doubt smelling an easy meal, had come to dispute his claim.

Tarath took a moment and examined both of the combatants.

The cat was muscled and had doubtless eaten well of late, if the glossiness of its fur was any indication of its health. It was a good six feet long, making it slightly larger than its opponent, and it was about three feet high at its shoulder. It continued to pace back and forth, its jaws open and its fangs bared in a snarl, revealing themselves to be rather sizeable as well.

He then looked over at the bipedal sentient, which had its own teeth bared. A quick once over, which when combined from the shout that he'd heard earlier led him to conclude that this was a male of the species. His hair was blond and went back over his shoulders, and azure eyes that reminded him very much of his brothers sparked in anger. He was covered in the same furs that his kind had worn the last time he'd seen them. However, he noticed that his bow lay off to one side, and in his hand he clutched a weapon that Tarath had not seen expect in images from history books.

It was a short sword, its brownish sheen indicating that it was either copper or bronze in origin, and the creature gripped it tightly.

The cat suddenly screamed again, and pounced, hurling its frame, which likely weighed nearly as much as the Precursor observing this fight, at the other combatant, and for a moment, the Reaver felt his heart catch in his throat, obviously fearing that it was about to kill the biped.

However, that was not to be the case, and the fur clad creature rolled to the side, and lashed out with his weapon at the same time, drawing a line of blood along the side of the predator's flank, and sending any nearby birds fluttering for a quieter perch when it screamed in pain.

The cat retaliated by swiftly striking out with a paw, catching the pale skin across the chest and tearing through his garments. The being hissed in pain, which gave the cat enough of an opening to knock the creature down, and it opened its jaws, preparing to finish the fight once and for all. The Praetor went to intervene, but providence apparently favored the young male this day, as he kept enough wits about him to drive his blade up into the open mouth of his adversary, and Tarath watched in mild surprise as it came out of the back of the feline's head.

The cat slumped, the fires in its eyes dying, and the pale skin quickly threw the beast off of himself, lest it manage to crush him with its weight. Retrieving his bow and dusting himself off, the biped then cleaned his sword, and placing the deer upon his shoulders, trekked off into the underbrush once more.

For a moment, the Praetor entertained the thought of following the creature, but a quick look at his Eco levels told him that he was getting close to the edge of his safety zone, and he didn't fancy trying to cross those mountains in his normal form. Thus, he simply decided that he would come back the next day. It was past time for him to get some rest anyway.

* * *

The clearing was empty now, the corpse of the great cat gone as well. However, it was fairly obvious that there had been activity here, as a good number of footprints how dotted the glade. Also, judging by the stretch of grass that lay bent and crushed, the predatory feline had apparently been dragged out of this place.

He'd slept for almost eighteen hours when he'd finally gotten back to where he'd left his Stinger, awakening in the late afternoon of the next day. After a quick meal, and a pause to recharge his diminished Eco levels, the dark armored Ancient had quickly been on his way again.

Curiosity welling up inside of him, providing a much wanted distraction from his pain, the Reaver followed the fairly obvious trail deeper into the forest, wondering if he might come across another one of those villages these pale skins dwelled in.

* * *

His search had been rewarded a couple of hours later.

Night had fallen, shrouding the world in a dark blanket. However, this would prove to be an aid to his search, as the fires from the village shone like suns when he'd been searching with his night vision. Turning his visor back to its regular mode of viewing, Tarath moved closer to the community of sentients.

He reached the edge of the trees, and halted, not wishing to reveal himself to these beings and cause a panic amongst them. Fortunately, the black color of his armor would doubtless aid in his attempts to remain hidden, and so he focused his attention on the small village.

Several fires, presumably for cooking, burned, while another one, which was far larger and the Praetor assumed was for some sort of ceremony, lit up the whole clearing. Audible over the crackling roar that emanated from the blaze was something he could only describe as music. He zoomed in on some of the pale skinned creatures that sat around the bonfire, noticing that they were blowing into some strange, slender rods that appeared to be made of some sort of wood. Around them, several members of their race danced to the sounds, and the dark armored warrior was unable to stop himself from thinking back to the time when his people had doubtlessly been this way.

One thing that also surprised him was the sheer number of people that were in this place. Tarath did a brief estimate, and figured there had to be hundreds of these long eared beings, all of them celebrating with each other, for what purpose he knew not.

As he watched the festivities unfold, one other thing caught his eye. It was a small knot of these beings, sitting slightly apart from the rest. They were clad in furs that seemed to be of a higher quality than those of the others. Also, glittering items covered them, apparently made from bone or some rough and uncut gemstones. Even among that group, there was one person who he focused his attention upon. As soon as he saw him, Tarath knew that this was the same sentient that he had observed in the battle with the predatory feline the previous day.

It was a simple matter to identify him, for he had a cape around his shoulders that was made of the skin of the cat that he had slain, its claws locking the item around his neck like a broach. The short sword was strapped to his waist as well. This time, though, he wore something that made the Reaver's eye bulge from behind his helmet. It dangled from around his neck, set into an amulet that appeared to be made of bone. Firelight glistened off of its faceted surface, but even in that orange glow, the gem shone blood red.

An Eco Crystal! The Praetor was amazed that these beings had managed to find one of those. Even in a place as abundant in Eco as this place was, natural crystals were rare indeed. Did the young male even know the value of the item around his neck? Did he know of the power that lay dormant within it, awaiting the right circumstances to be released? Instantly, he understood, this group represented the tribal rulers, their ancient monarchy that his own kind had once been governed by.

Tarath shook his head and examined the rest of the group. They were mostly adults, but the young man was not alone, and several others of his own age group were present as well, and they talked in that strange tongue of theirs.

The dark armored warrior slowly levitated himself off of the ground, before skittering around the edge of the clearing, always being careful to stay out of sight. Gradually, he'd gotten up to where he could hear them better. Not that it truly helped, as he hadn't any idea what in Gaia's name they were even speaking about in the first place, but still, curiosity demanded that he be closer to them.

As he drew nearer to the cluster, he began to be able to pick out individual voices, noticing how they seemed to be laughing and joking, while some of them gripped the cat skin cloak that the young male, before chattering on in what the Praetor assumed was complementing him on his battle prowess.

The other creatures seemed to be perfectly happy at this moment as well, and the merriment that he saw here provided a stark and dramatic contrast to that of his own people, lost in the mourning for the souls of the dead and for those who were worse than dead.

They were so at peace with one another, so content with what little they had as far as comforts were concerned. To a degree, it made Tarath envious of them, that they could coexist with each other while his own kind had dissolved into war over the results of single scientific experiment. That train of thought led him to also wonder what might have happened had Kerrog and the Fallen Ones prevailed, and tried to terraforming experiment once again. He shuddered as that passed through his mind, horrified at the prospect of them wiping out another race of sentients who had done nothing to deserve it.

How arrogant had his people become, that they had thought they could meddle with something as powerful as they had with no thought for what might happen if something had gone wrong? They had nearly destroyed their own world in their haughty belief that they were so brilliant that nothing could have possibly gone awry.

Shaking his head, the Ancient returned his attention to the celebration that was before him, reminding himself that he had come out here to escape such bleak thoughts.

Time passed, and he watched as the villagers played games, child and adult alike, doing everything from racing around the clearing, to seeing who could jump the farthest. A smile came over his hidden face as he saw that, for it reminded him of the games of his own youth, and it was all he could do not to laugh along with them as they carried on like they hadn't a care in the world.

After those festivities had been carried out, a meal had been eaten, and the Precursor had wondered how high their metabolism must have been, for them to have to eat so much. Then, he remembered that they were about three times the size he and the rest of his kind normally was, and he mentally slapped himself.

If only Phoenix could see this, he thought to himself as he watched their conversations carry on through the meal, wishing he knew what they were saying, and resolving that after his little excursion here was over and done with, that he would bring his adoptive sibling out here as soon as he could.

* * *

Some more time had passed, and eventually, the celebration had started to die down. It was then, that something was made very clear to Tarath, and it certainly put his heart at ease.

One of the rulers had stood, a large, powerfully built male with a shock of black hair, and had embraced one of the others, whom the Reaver had figured was the father of the young hunter he had observed. Truthfully, he had been curious as to why a group that was even this size would need a governing group quite that large, and now, as the dark haired one and several others began to leave, he believed that he finally understood what was going on. There were actually two groups here, not one as he had at first believed, brought together by some special occasion that he didn't really understand.

However, that small problem was quickly cleared up, as about half of the people who were at the celebration got up, performed some hugs and handshakes that Tarath assumed were good bye gestures, and then headed north.

He maneuvered around, once more being certain not to be spotted, trying to see where they were going.

He had been so engrossed with their celebration that he hadn't taken as careful noting of the surroundings as he should have, and only now did he see that he was next to the base of the mountains that had kept this place sealed off for so long. Furthermore, he saw a large tunnel in the side of the base, one that was far too straight and regular to have carved by Gaia's elements, and it was only then that everything fell into place.

That had been one of the tunnels that his own people had drilled into the mountain range, for they had guessed that several of the resources that were to be found here would be too large to be successfully airlifted out of the place by transport, and they didn't want to risk a warp gate out in this place. Thus, they had decided that they would carry materials out on large hovercrafts.

It all made sense now. These creatures hadn't been wiped out. Quite the contrary, in fact, they were expanding, some of the tribes leaving to find new hunting grounds.

A smile came over him once again, and he silently wished the departing members good luck. He'd certainly have to tell the others about this when he got back, there was no telling what they might be able to accomplish. True, they'd have to be a little cautious, as Tarath hadn't forgotten the little panic that he'd caused when he'd stumbled upon that village right before the battle that would have certainly done irreparable damage to these primitive, though clearly intelligent, beings.

It was a few moments before he became aware of it, but when he finally did, he cursed himself for his carelessness.

Near the young hunter he had observed was another one of these creatures, this one female, and if the facial resemblance was anything of an indicator, probably a sibling. Now that the other tribe had departed for parts unknown, she had turned around. Tarath had no idea what he had done, what subtle motion might have given him away, but her green eyes were staring right at him, and he knew that he'd been spotted.

Slowly, lest any abrupt movement give his position away to the other beings, be backed away into the shadows of the forest, hoping that she would lose interest with him. Once the village had faded from sight, he immediately shot upwards, twisting about and flying up into the canopy of the trees, hoping to lose himself amongst the shadows if she did decide to pursue.

"Idiot!" he muttered harshly, having to resist the urge to slap himself.

He had no idea what had happened last time after the uproar that his kind had created, when these pale skinned natives had spotted them as they had marched to battle. Now, whatever that event had been, it was likely about to be repeated, and whatever repercussions resulted from it would be entirely his fault.

"Can't you do anything right?" he asked quietly of himself, shaking his head in disbelief over his carelessness.

A second later, he was knocked out of his self berating by the sound of cracking underbrush, and as he looked out, switching his visor to heat mode, he silently cursed. The female creature was indeed following him, and his mind quickly kicked into overdrive, trying to figure a way out of this mess that he had gotten himself into. Still, he supposed that he should be thankful that she hadn't raised the alarm and gotten the whole village stirred up, which would have certainly been worse.

Completely unaware of his presence some fifty odd feet above her, the young female passed beneath him, and cursing himself, the warrior decided to silently follow her. She had likely not had either the time nor the opportunity to arm herself, and he knew that if something were to befall her, that it would be more blood upon his hands, something he genuinely did not need at this point in time.

* * *

It was a good thing indeed that the Reaver decided to follow the pale skinned female, as it was not two or three minutes after he'd begun tailing her that trouble had reared its head.

The Praetor was grateful for his visor, for without the heat sensitive viewing mode, he likely would have never spotted the predator. It was a feline, probably of the same species as the one that the girl's brother had slain, and he noticed it approaching from behind her, its padded footfalls quiet as the breeze that went through the trees, barely audible even with the hearing enhancements of his helmet.

However, this was not to say that the female was oblivious to its presence, as before it could strike, she whirled around, assuming a combat stance. For a moment Tarath was confused, as he had not heard a noise that would have betrayed the feline's presence, before the obvious once again hit him. With ears as large as that, the sentient would logically have superb hearing capabilities. Sensitive hearing or not, though, Tarath knew that this female was outmatched by the cat, which had now emerged from the underbrush, growling softly and barring its fangs.

Still, she stood her ground, saying something in her own language that he assumed was a defiant battle cry. A moment later, he saw the cat tense, and knew that it was about to spring at the girl. As it did so, almost without thinking, he extended his hand, and willed his powers to come forth. They did so in earnest, lightning crackling off of the edge of his fingertips. The Dark Eco lightning caught the cat in mid leap, coursing over its body and snuffing out its life, its yowl turning into a death gurgle as it slammed into the ground and skidded for a few feet, bolts of electricity coursing over its body for a few seconds.

The girl's stance went from that of a person who was on edge and ready to fight to that of someone who was utterly baffled about what had happened. Slowly, she turned, and looked up. Tarath sighed, knowing there was no use in hiding.

"Now you've really done it," he murmured to himself, as he floated out to where he was no longer hidden by the branches of the trees.

The girl's jaw dropped wide open as she caught another glimpse of the dark armored warrior, and behind his helmet, the Reaver frowned, unsure about how to proceed. After all, it wasn't as if they had first contact protocols written down somewhere on what they were supposed to do in the event that they encountered another sentient race. He was utterly clueless, so all he did was hover in the air while he tried to reach a decision.

He found the easiest solution at the moment was to concentrate upon something else entirely, and so he thought about the cat that he had just struck down. He floated down and landed before walking up to the slain feline. A quick glance revealed it to be a female, and he felt as though this second riddle of the night might finally be starting to make sense.

The cat was likely mated to the one that the hunter had killed the previous day, and it had probably gone sniffing around the village after the scent trail. That would certainly explain its proximity to the village, as he doubted it would attempt to attack such a strong encampment by itself. He also knew that some predatory animals formed very close knit bonds with their mates, and the probability that it was looking for a biped or two to pick off wasn't entirely out of the question.

She was down on her knees, bowed low to the ground, her eyes upon the forest floor. For a moment, he cocked an eyebrow behind his visor, not entirely sure what to make of her actions. Was this a manner among their kind? Some means of conveying her thanks for his assistance, or did it mean something else? He tilted his head to one side as he continued to think about it, wondering what in the world the female might have been doing.

However, his thoughts were cut short a moment later by a calling sound from somewhere behind him. Combat instincts kicked in, and before he could stop himself, Tarath had twisted around to face the source of the noise. At the same time, he flicked his wrist and his warp blade had come down and locked itself into attack position, causing a gasp to come from the bowing female, as he realized that she must have looked up upon hearing the noise, and had found herself staring at the Metatron weapon.

Tarath's crimson eyes narrowed behind the visor as he looked out upon the forest, where he could clearly see something moving through the brush. The call came again, and the Praetor let out a quiet 'ah' as he put two and two together. Realizing that it was another elf, the girl's sibling if he remembered the voice correctly, the dark armored Ancient relaxed his stance, flicking his wrist in a manner that returned his warp blade to its inactive position.

A moment or two later, the young hunter burst through the underbrush, his short sword drawn in anticipation of some form of trouble. However, while the young sentient might have been prepared for most of what this valley could throw at him, coming across a being like Tarath was certainly not something he had been expecting. At least, that was what the Reaver deduced when the male came to a grinding halt, his eyes all but falling out of his head while his sword suddenly thumped into the soft earth. A moment later, he too went prone upon the ground, muttering something that the Precursor couldn't understand, but he had a vague hinting at the disturbing notion that they were thinking him some form of deity or another.

Just wonderful, his first full day observing these creatures, and he'd already managed to get tangled up in the local religion.

It was a lot for him to think about for the moment, and so he simply stood where he was, one hand idly rubbing the chin of his helmet as he wondered how in Gaia's name he was going to deal with this minor complication.

Several minutes passed while he mused over various courses of action that he might take, all the while he was well aware of the two siblings who were at his feet, still muttering in that strange language of theirs. It was then that something came up and solved the problem for him, or rather, it took the problem out of his hands. Once more, his Eco monitor began to flash, warning him that it was starting to run low, and that he would need to recharge.

Not knowing what else to do, he slowly lifted himself off the ground, to the further amazement of the male, who had not seen him descend, and shot upwards into the sky, cursing himself under his breath as he wondered what he was supposed to do now.

* * *

Dawn came early the next morning, and the Reaver was up with it. He ate a hasty breakfast of supplied rations that he'd grabbed before he'd left. He then recharged himself, and he was on his way, streaking over the mountains and back towards where he'd last left those natives in the clearing.

When he'd finally arrived, it had taken all his training and discipline not to go crack his skull open over the nearest rock.

The corpse of the feline had been removed, but in its place was what appeared to be a tray with some food and what he assumed were some of the village trinkets. Now he certainly knew what was up, they thought he was a god, just lovely. He supposed it was inevitable. After all, they seemed to be somewhere in-between what was the late Stone and early Bronze Age judging by their hunting equipment. They were here, trying to survive and expand, and suddenly, from literally out of nowhere, comes a nearly nine foot tall thing that was covered in some sort of shiny armor, had a weird blade attached to its arm, and the apparent ability to fly and shoot lightning bolts from its fingertips. Was in any wonder that they thought him something beyond mortal?

Heh, he thought bitterly to himself, if only these sentients knew the truth, that Precursors were all too mortal. They died as easily as anything else, the Kinslayer War had taught him that harsh lesson if nothing else.

After that, he became lost in his thoughts, trying desperately to think of what he could do to try and get out of this mess that he had created.

* * *

Some hours had passed, and the Praetor now leaned back against a tree, still pondering the situation that he was in.

The first thing that he would have to do is to try and figure out the language of these bipeds, otherwise he was never going to get anywhere. But how was he supposed to do that? He was a warrior, not a language professor… looked like he was going to have to get some help from the scholars of his people.

It was at that time, when fate's cruel hand once more came into play.

There was a warbling noise inside of his helmet abruptly, one that startled him back to reality. After he had gotten over his surprise, he realized that it was coming from his comm. system, meaning that someone was attempting to talk with him.

Puzzled, he switched the system back on, and to his further amazement, he found that Phoenix was staring back at him. His adoptive sibling was in his combat form, and was apparently rather agitated.

"About time I managed to get a hold of you, brother," the Archon growled, causing Tarath to cock his head in a quizzical manner.

"I'm fine, Phoenix," he said, a faint smile upon his face. "I'm out in that valley where we discovered the other sentients. I've been watching them for a few days and…"

"Good to know they're still alive, but we need you back here, now!" the white armored warrior snarled, causing a further look of confusion to come over the Reaver.

"What's wrong?" Tarath asked, now very much concerned.

"I think Kerrog wasn't bluffing when he said that we'd soon find ourselves embroiled in another conflict," Phoenix told him. "The capital was attacked today."

"What?" the Reaver exclaimed, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Who? When?"

"It's difficult to explain," his brother replied, "just get back here as soon as you can."

With that, the comm. line went dead, and Tarath pondered for just a moment why things looked like they were about to come crashing down again now that they were finally on the up and up.

However, he only bemoaned the situation for a second or two, before he blasted up into the air, heading fro where he had left his Stinger.

* * *

That was the beginning of the second war, their first contact with the Hora-quan, the bio weapons that the Fallen Ones had been creating to try and turn the tide of the Kinslayer War in their favor. The conflict that would all but destroy his people… a conflict that would give rise to another species as he and his comrades made a final, desperate bid to save themselves and their world.

Tarath sighed as he stared around at his fellow warriors.

How many would die this time? How many Precursors, elves, and Channelers would be dead before this eons old conflict was finally resolved?

* * *

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I know its not the biggest thing I've ever written, and I apologize if it was poorly done, but I figured that you guys had waited long enough.

Also, later this week, I hope to post the first chapter of another story I've been working on, so wish me luck in that.

Now, I believe I owe you some clichés….

Cliché Number Ten

**Luddite Rule (or, George Lucas Rule)**  
Speaking of which, technology is inherently evil and is the exclusive province of the Bad Guys. They're the ones with the robots, factories, cyberpunk megalopolises and floating battle stations, while the Good Guys live in small villages in peaceful harmony with nature. (Although somehow your guns and/or heavily armed airships are exempted from this.)

Cliché Thirteen

**The Higher The Hair, The Closer To God (Cloud Rule)**  
The more outrageous his hairstyle, the more important a male character is to the story.

Cliché's Ninteen through twenty three (Nineteen's been posted, but you need it to understand some of the others)

**"Silly Squall, bringing a sword to a gunfight..."**  
No matter what timeframe the game is set in -- past, present, or future -- the main hero and his antagonist will both use a sword for a weapon. (Therefore, you can identify your antagonist pretty easily right from the start of the game just by looking for the other guy who uses a sword.) These swords will be far more powerful than any gun and are often themselves capable of distance attacks.

**Just Nod Your Head And Smile**  
And no matter how big that big-ass sword is, you won't stand out in a crowd. Nobody ever crosses the street to avoid you or seems to be especially shocked or alarmed when a heavily armed gang bursts into their house during dinner, rummages through their possessions, and demands to know if they've seen a black-caped man. People can get used to anything, apparently.

**Aeris's Corollary**  
Just as the main male character will always use a sword or a variant of a sword, the main female character will always use a rod, staff, or staff based weapon of some sort.

**MacGyver Rule**  
Other than for the protagonists, your choice of weapons is not limited to the prosaic guns, clubs, or swords. Given appropriate skills, you can cut a bloody swath across the continent using gloves, combs, umbrellas, megaphones, dictionaries, sketching tablets -- you name it, you can kill with it. Even better, no matter how surreal your choice of armament, every store you pass will just happen to stock an even better model of it for a very reasonable price. Who else is running around the world killing people with an umbrella?

**O Brother, Where Art Thou? (Melfice Rule)**  
If the male hero has an older sibling, the sibling will also be male and will turn out to be one of the major villains. If the hero has a younger sibling, the sibling will be female and will be kidnapped and held hostage by the villains.

And for your further pleasure, and to make up for the delay, some stuff from the Evil Overlord List. (rules one through thirteen)

My Legions of Terror will have helmets with clear plexiglass visors, not face-concealing ones that they themselves cannot see out of.

My ventilation ducts will be too small to crawl through.

My noble half-brother whose throne I usurped will be killed, not kept anonymously imprisoned in a forgotten cell of my dungeon.

Shooting is _not_ too good for my enemies.

The artifact which is the source of my power will not be kept on the Mountain of Despair beyond the River of Fire guarded by the Dragons of Eternity. It will be in my safe-deposit box. The same applies to the object which is my one weakness.

I will not gloat over my enemies' predicament before killing them.

When I've captured my adversary and he says, "Look, before you kill me, will you at least tell me what this is all about?" I'll say, "No." and shoot him. No, on second thought I'll shoot him then say "No."

After I kidnap the beautiful princess, we will be married immediately in a quiet civil ceremony, not a lavish spectacle in three weeks' time during which the final phase of my plan will be carried out.

I will not include a self-destruct mechanism unless absolutely necessary. If it is necessary, it will not be a large red button labeled "Danger: Do Not Push". The big red button marked "Do Not Push" will instead trigger a spray of bullets on anyone stupid enough to disregard it. Similarly, the ON/OFF switch will not clearly be labeled as such.

I will not interrogate my enemies in the inner sanctum -- a small hotel well outside my borders will work just as well.

I will be secure in my superiority. Therefore, I will feel no need to prove it by leaving clues in the form of riddles or leaving my weaker enemies alive to show they pose no threat.

One of my advisors will be an average five-year-old child. Any flaws in my plan that he is able to spot will be corrected before implementation.

All slain enemies will be cremated, or at least have several rounds of ammunition emptied into them, not left for dead at the bottom of the cliff. The announcement of their deaths, as well as any accompanying celebration, will be deferred until after the aforementioned disposal.


	24. The Best Laid Plans

Greetings, to you all, and I hope this somewhat speedier update makes up for the massive delay with the last chapter.

Not much going on right now, just a lot of writing, which is a nice break for a change… though yesterday was a little hectic. Somehow, during the middle of the night, an oak snake managed to slither up the side of our house, get into the attic via a vent, and then come down the interior DSL cable into the living room, where it promptly took up residence in our bookcase/video library. Naturally, neither my mother nor my little brother were thrilled about this, and an attempt to capture the serpent was made.

However, our own best laid plans went awry. Our plan called for me to pin the snake's head with a stick, and then grab just behind the head and the tail to keep it from thrashing about and hurting itself. In the event of the snake bolting out of the cubby it was in, little brother was supposed to have a pillow case handy to catch it in, as they don't really mind being put inside those. However, when it did shoot out of its hiding place, my brother promptly screamed like a little girl (no offense meant to the female population reading this) threw the pillow case at it, and bolted, slamming the door behind him.

Now, while oak snakes are not really aggressive and are about as dangerous as your average honey bee, it did not take kindly to having something thrown at it… fortunately, the fact that I was three times as tall as it was long seemed to deter it from trying to bite me. Unfortunately, it bolted back into a little gap between the two bookcases and the wall, which gives it a space about as wide as a shoe box to hide out in, as the entrance is not wide enough to permit entrance to something much larger than a half inch wide.

Complicating matters is that while I was away at work, someone left a door open, meaning that while unmonitored, senior scaly probably took the opportunity to move to a less attention drawing location, and could now literally be anywhere.

Also, I managed to get my new story up, if anyone wants to check it out (new to writing for that genre so any advice is more than welcome for it)

But enough of my problems.

Many thanks to all of those who reviewed, and to those of you who did read but not review, I hope you found this story to be worth your time and effort.

Lawyers: ya know the drill, dagnabbit! I don't own nothing, so get outta here!

That said, here's the chapter.

* * *

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* * *

The Best Laid Plans…

Jinx muttered a quiet oath under his breath as he stared around at the Harbor, his mind mulling over all that had befallen them in the week or so that it had been since they had sent Keira off in hopes that she might return with her husband in tow and that they might all get out of this mess before anyone else got sent home in a body bag. So far, everything had been holding, though the gods be damned clankers never stopped taking potshots at the Lockdown barriers, and the men and women who were on guard duty merely had to contend themselves to sitting back and letting the machines have their way, as they couldn't exactly reach the enemy, either.

In some ways, the Revenant felt that such a situation was even worse than being up to his chestplate in the blasted machines. At least then he would be able to do something, rather than sitting around just waiting for their supplies to run out, which was about to become a distinct possibility. As it was, rationing had to be put into effect about three days ago, and everyone was feeling the pinch.

In short, things were grim, the soldiers were all miserable, and everyone was basically vowing that if they managed to get out of this alive, that the certain chairman who was involved in getting them into this mess was certainly going to be sorry. As a matter of fact, since things were relatively quiet, most of the soldiers had been taking a poll on what exactly they were going to do to Veger. Jinx couldn't help but smile at the thought, as the tally currently placed the end decision as a close race between leaving him dangling over a pit of hungry Metal Heads by his ankles, tying him to the bumper of a zoomer and dragging him all over town, or the ever traditional just throw him into a crowd of disgruntled soldiers and let their collective imagination take care of the rest of it.

He certainly knew what he wanted to do to the guy, a neat little trick that he'd learned from Torn just the other day, though the pyromaniac was quite certain that it was not something that his squad leader had intended to be taken as a lesson, and he would likely run a risk of personal injury should he ever let it know how he had learned it.

An abrupt whirring and clanking noise snapped him back to attention, and he and all the rest of the men at the barricade that he was at instantly went alert, kneeling down behind cover and training their many weapons upon the door of the service elevator that they had been guarding. Torn had thought it strange that the Death Bots or the Hora-quan had not yet attempted to gain entrance to their area via the underground areas, and he'd always been suspicious as to whether the machines had been trying to lure them into a false sense of security.

It appeared as though that might have indeed been the case, and Jinx made certain that both of his weapons were switched to full automatic. After all, in such a narrow, confined space as that, the droids would have little to no room to dodge, and it was imperative that they not be allowed to gain a foothold into the sector.

Thus, imagine the surprise of him and the rest of the small garrison when the doors opened to reveal nothing other than some fellow blue armored soldiers. For a moment, the Revenant wondered if this wasn't some clever ploy. But then, as he stared out a group, a very sobering message made its way through his brain, and he knew in that instant, that it was no deception.

After all, battle droids didn't bleed.

The soldiers were a mess. There were almost none in the group were weren't wounded, and none of their armor was the same pristine royal blue that it had been when they had entered into the disastrous assault upon the Industrial Sector (as that was where he was assuming they had attacked, given the direction in which they were coming from).

It was then however, that two things drew his attention away from the regular rank and file troopers. The first was the color of an armor suit that more closely resembled his own, and despite the charred and blackened regions of the Katarn Mark II, he was still able to make out a few of the dark, jungle green marks that Cody Balic had placed upon his gear.

The second thing, two things actually, were of a pair of elves who walked off of the elevator a moment after it had opened with their weapons drawn and ready.

Now Jinx was well versed in the history of his home city, and he instantly recognized the battle armor that Mar had worn, and when he saw the katana that was held within the hand of the elf, he swiftly did the math. This was followed by what was now a standard reaction for a first time viewing of the vaunted battle armor, especially now that it was worn by the dark elf that had saved the whole city those months ago.

As for the other elf, judging by the proximity that it had to Jak, and the striking similarities between their equipment, he made a highly educated guess that Keira had pulled off what they'd all been hoping for.

Smiling, and resisting the urge to leap into the air and let out a cheer that would probably have been heard by Ashelin and the others back in the command offices, the gray armored warrior stood up from behind the barricade, holstering his weapons and walking forward.

"Welcome back, Sir," he said as he got close to Jak, and snapped into a salute, whether serious or semi mocking, the Ascended Channeler couldn't tell, as it was always difficult for one to tell when the explosives expert was joking around.

"Good to be back, Jinx," Jak said, extending his hand and grasping the demolition expert's own in a good shake.

"Nice to see that your wife managed to get through to you, we've really needed you back here," Revenant Sixty Seven said, turning and giving the girl a salute, and then turning his attention to where Cody was. "Good to see you're still kicking, bro," he said, his voice slightly choked.

Cody said nothing in return but threw himself around his fellow Revenant, a loud clacking noise filling the arm as Jinx returned the embrace.

"There are more of us down in the sewers below," the heavy weapons expert said after a moment or two, "some of them are pretty messed up, is there an aid station around here?"

"Yeah, we got one set up by the HQ," Jinx said, nodding his head vigorously, elated that there were more survivors than he had thought, as the few communications that they'd had with Ashelin had panted a very bleak picture for the troopers that General Toshiro had led into the Industrial Sector.

He'd have to get the names of these soldiers once they were all here, and then relay that information back to the GHQ in the Residential Sector. There were some families who were about to receive some very, very good news.

* * *

The group had stood around and waited for the rest of the soldiers to emerge from the depths of the sewers, and Jinx had begun to have second thoughts about how good the evening was turning out. Many of the men and women who had come up were upon their last legs, their minds and bodies pushed to the breaking point and beyond by all that had happened to them.

He had seen one trooper who had to be carried by his fellows, his legs taken off at the shins by a plasmite grenade. There was another whose arm had been scorched off by a Firestorm's flamethrower. Others were missing fingers, parts of their ears, or were covered in burns and scars that they would carry with them for the rest of their lives. This was to say nothing of their mental conditions, which were nearly in shambles in a lot of cases. He could scarcely blame them, and he wondered how they had been able to hold themselves together.

True to his word, he had gathered them all, and then led them to the medical station that had been set up just outside of the Naughty Ottsel. After that, he had taken Jak, Keira, Daxter, Pecker, and Cody to the commander center itself, and they stood outside of it right now.

"Nice to know that the battle at least spared my joint," Daxter muttered, rubbing his chin and starring dreamily up at the larger than life figure of himself. However, the smile became a frown as he suddenly noticed several darker areas around the facial regions of the statue.

"Hey, Jinx," he barked, grabbing the spec ops soldier's attention, "what are those spots on my face?"

"Well," the pyromaniac responded, rubbing the back of his head in a somewhat sheepish manner, "we had to calibrate the sights on our guns somehow."

"What!" the ottsel screamed, jumping off of Jak's shoulder and grabbing a hold of the ammo bandolier that went around Jinx's chest, clawing himself up to where he was glaring right into the Revenant's T shaped visor. "Are you telling me that you used my statue, one of the hard earned fruits of my labors, as a fierfeking target?"

"Hey, it was Torn's idea!" Jinx said in a defensive tone, waving his arms in spite of the fact that the furry creature couldn't see them, as his eyes were now plastered upon his helmet, his breath causing a region of the visor to fog up.

"I'm going to murder him!" the ottsel roared, and for once, his well used vocal cords actually made him sound threatening, and Jak, looking over to his soul mate, felt a genuine swell of pity for the hardened commander.

Daxter abruptly let go of Revenant Sixty Seven, hitting the ground running and dashing into his bar.

"So, who are we placing our bets upon?" Jinx muttered sardonically, looking over to the rest of the crew.

"Daxter," Jak and Keira responded simultaneously, knowing that while the little furball might now have been able to do much physical harm to Torn, that he would not forget this any time soon.

"My money says that if we all live through this, that Torn is going to find himself waking up with pink hair or something like that," Keira murmured, before following the ottsel into his business.

Inside, to their immense surprise, they found Torn, looking rather confused. As for Daxter, well, he had been slightly distracted from his 'revenge of the ottsel' styled mentality by a certain blond haired elf. Currently, he was cradled in Tess' arms, muttering sweet little phrases to her while she rocked him back and forth, rubbing behind his ears.

Torn attention shifted from the strange duo at the booths to those who were just walking in. He paused for a moment, then did a double take as his mind caught up with what his eyes were seeing. He had expected Keira to return with her husband, but he had not exactly expected either of them to show up in the gear that they were carrying. As such, for one of the few times in his life, the elite commander was rendered speechless, so much so that he actually forgot about Jak's new rank, and failed to salute him.

Fortunately for him, both of the Ascended Channelers were currently absorbed wondering what in the world the Revenant had done to his face. His skin was a pale as ever, but to Keira's surprise, his beard was gone, and in its place were several scabs and cuts, which judging by the relatively intact condition of his helmet, which was set on the holo table, were not the result of shrapnel wounds.

"Torn, what did you do to yourself?" the tech head asked, a look of shock upon her face that was hidden by her helmet.

The soldier in front of her remained silent to her question, a frown on his face and a hard glare coming into his eyes. However, the question of how he had scratched up his visage would be answered, as Jinx, who had popped his own helmet off, decided that the humor of the situation would be well worth any demerits his brother in arms might give him.

"He had a bit of a shaving accident," the pyromaniac responded, a grin upon his face and a chuckle in his tone, oblivious to the snarling glare that his squad leader shot him a moment later, which might have even made Kor cower before it, were he still alive.

"But how?" Keira asked, instinctively looking over to Tess, who had taken an interest in the conversation all off a sudden, if the mischievous sparkle in her eyes were any indication. "We don't exactly have any razors around… here…"

The reason that she trailed off was because of the 'shich-shing' sound that filled the air a moment later, and she looked back over to Jinx, who was staring intently down at the vibro blade that was mounted upon his left wrist, curling and uncurling his fist, causing the crystalloid weapon to extend and retract in rapid succession, scarcely giving the sound blade time enough to activate.

All of a sudden, it clicked, and both Jak and Keira looked over to each other, and then back to the silent commander, who still looked as if he had gotten up on the wrong side of the bed.

"Wait a minute, Torn," the aqua haired elf began, an immense tone of disbelief in her voice, "you mean to tell me that you tried to shave with your _vibro blade!"_

"Yep," Tess said with a vigorous nod of her head, "and believe me, Keira, you never heard such swearing before."

'**_Just when you think you've seen it all…' _**Kage remarked, shaking his head inside of Jak's mind, the fangs on one side of his mouth visible as he gave a crooked grin.

"I'd like to see you try it and get off mark free!" Torn roared, practically foaming at the mouth, this reaction mostly being due to the gut clenching hysterics that Daxter had suddenly broken into, and that Jak and his wife were also trying not to dissolve into.

"Why do you think I kept mine on, Leader Man?" Jinx asked, tracing and armored finger along the inch long blond growth that was all over his jaw line. "Better this than that hack job you managed to pull off."

"You just wait until we get out of this, pyro," the commander growled, walking over and thumping his index finger against Revenant Sixty Seven's chestplate. "Because when we do, I'm going to bust you down to a private."

"Yes, Sir," Jinx replied, his comical still in full control as he gave Torn a salute.

"If you guys are done discussing the fine art of facial hygiene," Cody said, a note of impatience in his tone, "I've got a report to make."

For the first time, Torn seemed to notice that there was another Revenant standing behind Jak and Keira. A look of astonishment came over him, and he quickly rushed over to give the armored soldier a hug.

"Welcome back, brother," he said, a faint tear in his eye, all of his anger over his wounded pride forgotten.

Nobody was really surprised at the reaction that came from him. After all, both he and Jinx had been the last of the originals, and had watched as most of the soldiers that hey had come to call family had been killed before their very eyes. Though they had hid it quite well, they had been worried that history might have repeated itself. The few communications that they'd had with Ashelin had let them know that Liz, Zack, and Richard, the squad that Cody had been leading, were all back safe within the Residential Sectors (along with the forth squad), but that he squad leader himself was MIA. Thus, to find out that they had all made it through in one piece was a great relief, and while the group in the West Side was still unaccounted for, at least the majority of their family was still breathing.

This was turning out better than he had dared to hope.

The two Revenants broke away from each other a moment later, and Torn finally seemed to remember that Jak now outranked him, and hastily gave a salute.

"Glad to have you back, Sir," he said, and Jak could have sworn that there was a slightly friendly tone to his normally iron hard voice.

"It feels good to be home, Torn," the dark elf responded as he popped the seal to his helmet and took it off. "But we need to hold off on the champagne and caviar for the moment, there's more to this assault than we originally thought."

"What are you talking about?" the commander asked, wondering how things could be any worse than they were already, as Jak had a knack for being the bearer of bad news.

"Did you ever get that splicing job working with Ashelin and the others?" Keira abruptly asked, as she too removed her helmet.

"Yeah, we did," Torn informed her, nodding his head.

"Good, because the Governess needs to hear this as well."

* * *

It had taken a few minutes to get a hold of Ashelin and the others, during which time the returning members were brought up to speed on the tactical situation as a whole. They were shocked, overall, to find out just how bad the causalities had been. More than one hundred thousand elves had met the Grim Reaper during the assault, and tens of thousands more had been wounded, many critically. Among them were countless numbers of officers and commanders, which had decapitated a good portion of Haven's military, and the loss of General Ryan Toshiro had hit them especially hard.

They had never forgotten that he had helped to save Daxter's life those months ago when Errol had held him hostage.

In light of his death, Ashelin had apparently assumed direct control of the Freedom League soldiers, a move that made Veger and his cronies more than a little uneasy. However, as Torn and the others had been delighted to hear that the people of Haven, upon finding out that the count and the Grand Council had been responsible for the disastrous assault that had cost the lives of so many were less than enthusiastic about their continued rule. As a result Count Veger was having to tread carefully. Personally, Jak, Daxter, Keira, and Pecker were all looking forward to meeting with him again. It promised to be a most amusing time.

However, first they had to figure out a way in which to get out of the Harbor in one piece, or better yet, figure out how to drive the enemy away from the city.

Jak and Keira were in the process of explaining the details of exactly what the big picture was when it had happened. The transmission and the accompanying hologram had started to become garbled and distorted, and they could all hear Ashelin shouting in the background at a tech, trying to figure out what was going on.

The reaction inside of the Naughty Ottsel was quick and decisive. Naturally, they assumed the problem was on their end, and they believed it to be the precursor to an attempt to break in to the Harbor Sector and wipe them all out. Thus, weapons were quickly drawn and armed.

One could imagine their surprise then, when rather than the sound of massive explosions and the like, they merely received a large burst of white noise before the hologram shifted entirely, the Governess disappearing entirely, to be replaced by the form of what was none other than a floating Precursor, its arms crossed over its chest and its head cocked to one side.

"Tarath?" Jak blurted, before mentally slapping himself.

While the bluish white color of the hologram made it impossible to distinguish the shade of the Ancient's armor, and it did indeed possess the protrusions from the helmet that were consistent with indicating Praetor rank, the dark elf knew after about half a second that this could not be the Reaver. For one thing, the being's armor was far more ornate than his ancestor's was, and that was most certainly not a warp blade attached to the right wrist of the warrior. Also, the armor's shape was wrong, being smooth rather than jagged.

'**_No, it couldn't be…' _**Kage murmured, his voice full of disbelief.

The figure turned to where it was facing Jak, and then paused once again.

"Jak Mar, I presume?" he inquired, his voice youthful, but with an edge to it that reminded the dark elf of Torn.

"Yes," the Ascended Channeler replied, rather suspicious of the Precursor.

"Hmm, you're taller than Kor made you out to be," the Ancient mused, cocking his head from side to side a few times.

"Just who the hell are you?" Torn growled as his warrior instincts kicked in and told him that all was not well with this situation.

"Where are my manners?" the Precursor inquired, slapping himself and shaking his head, "My parents would be ashamed of me. Forgive me, elf, but I am Kerrog Losstarr."

There was no dramatic flourish or fiendish cackling that came after the Fallen leader introduced himself, but none was needed. Jak, Daxter, and Keira did double takes, and Kage cursed within the dark elf's mind, all their eyes widening as they realized they were staring at the warrior who was about to bring seven thousand Ancients down on their heads. Torn and the others though, merely looked confused, as they hadn't heard this part of the story yet.

"So you're the big bad Archon trying to come back and take over the world?" Daxter asked, hopping from Tess' arms onto the table, standing up on the tips of his toes to where he was nearly eye to eye with Kerrog's holographic image. "Tarath told us all about you and your friends!"

The strangest thing happened next. It was the Fallen Precursor's turn to make a double take, and he actually took a step backwards away from the ottsel, his body language translating into something along the lines of profound shock.

"Who are you?" the Ancient asked after a moment, genuine curiosity in his voice.

"Name's Daxter, oh dreadlocked one," the furry rodent replied with a mocking bow and excessive sarcasm, "and if you make one comment about _my_ height, I swear I'll strangle you through this holo table!"

Far from being intimidated, Kerrog merely burst into laughter. However, Daxter was given the distinct feeling that it was not his threat, empty as it might have been, that was causing the hysterics from the Archon, but something else.

"You don't know what you are, do you?" The Fallen Precursor asked, mirth still evident in his voice. Upon seeing Daxter's blank look, he snorted once again. "Your ignorance amuses me, but my business is with the Hora-quan's Bane and the devil that he carries inside of himself."

"So you know that me and Kage who took care of your little bioweapon?" the dark elf inquired, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow, though both he and his guardian demon were rather surprised that he knew of the latter's existence.

"Yes, and I feel I must congratulate both of you on slaying Kor," Kerrog said, placing a fist into his palm and bowing before the Ascended Channeler, which resulted in some very surprised reactions throughout the bar.

"You're congratulating him for destroying your greatest weapon?" Keira replied incredulously, her alien eyes bulging slightly.

"A wise leader acknowledges the skill of his enemy," the Archon responded, raising an index finger to accentuate his point. "You managed to do something not even the greatest of Precursian warriors could accomplish. In the end, it would seem as though my brother's descendant proved to be the more powerful of the two weapons."

"I'm getting really fierfeking tired of being referred to as a weapon," the dark elf abruptly snarled, a fire leaping into his slitted eyes.

"My apologies, Jak," Kerrog replied with another bow, "it was not my intention to insult you…"

That was as far as he got before Keira interrupted him.

"Wait a minute, did you say 'my brother's descendant'?" she asked, staring at him intently, as if that by doing so she might pierce through the black visor covering Kerrog's face.

"Ahhh, I wondered if you would catch that," the Fallen Archon said in a quiet voice, almost as if he was talking to himself. "Yes, Tarath a sibling of mine, though it was through adoption rather than by blood. I'm not surprised he hasn't mentioned me as such. After all, as far as Executor Xadec Thas and the other Precursors are concerned, neither myself nor my fellows even exist. We figured it was time to give them a reality check."

The news hit the whole group like a grenade, so visible was their shock. Jak and Keira couldn't help but wonder why Tarath had kept such a secret from them. Keira was bothered by this more than her husband, possibly because the white armored Ancient that was standing in front of her was actually distant kin. She'd entertained the notion that there might have been some relation between the enigmatic leader of the Fallen Precursors and her ancestor, given that they had the same last name, but the analytical part of her mind had eventually dismissed the notion. After all, many elves had the same last name, but that did not necessarily make them related.

"Personally," Daxter remarked in his usual cheeky tone, "if you were related to me, I wouldn't want anyone to know you were my brother either. I wouldn't much like being related to a butcher like yourself!"

"One society's butcher is another's savior, Daxter," Kerrog shot back, "how do you think the Hora-quan regard your companion, the one who has killed them by the hundreds, if not thousands."

For once, Daxter found that he had no reply.

"All family quarreling aside," the Archon continued, "I have come with a warning for you, Jak Mar. Make no mistake, my comrades and I are returning to this world, and we intend to claim the glorious future that is befitting of our race. We are not Hora-quan, and we are not like the battle droids that you seem to have trouble fighting as it is. While I have no doubt that you elves would do everything in your power to defend your homeland and try to make us pay for every inch of tarmac we took from you, I, like my brothers, am not a big fan of wanton slaughter." He paused for a moment, his visored gaze boring into the dark elf. "I offer you and your people a chance to surrender."

"Fat chance!" Daxter shouted, hopping up and down. "We don't make deals with megalomaniacs!"

"Before you respond, think about my proposal," Kerrog replied, sticking out a palm in a gesture for the ottsel to calm his antics, "and know that you are not the only side with Ascended Channelers in your ranks."

"What?" Jak replied, rather surprised about this.

"He's been dying to talk with you ever since I began speaking," the Fallen leader said, before fading away, to be replaced by another figure.

The person was clad in armor that was similar to the armor that had been reserved for the 'normal channelers', though it was black in color as opposed to gray, and had what looked to be a nasty looking longsword type weapon attached to his left hip, while a helmet hid his face. After a moment, the figure stared right at the dark elf, before gazing over to Keira. Instantly, the angelic Channeler bristled, feeling something she only describe as a really bad vibe coming from this person, whoever he was. After a moment, though, his identity was revealed.

"Hello, Jak," came the voice, quiet and sinister, "it's so good to see you again."

'**_No… fierfeking… way!' _**Kage exclaimed, his fanged jaws all but unhinging from each other. **_'We killed him!' _**

'_Apparently we didn't kill him enough,'_ Jak responded mentally, a scowl upon his face.

"Errol," he spat out loud, trying as hard as he could to mask his surprise, "so we're on a first name basis now are we, I thought I was just the 'Eco Freak.'"

"Ahhh, Jak, I'm sorry that I ever called you that," the former commander said while he removed his helmet, allowing everyone to see his eyes, which now bore reptilian slits similar to the dark elf's. "I had no idea what you truly were, what we truly were. Had I but known that, I would have never used such a derogatory term for our kind."

"And just what are we?" Keira snarled, images of the trip through Mar's Tomb, of watching the sadistic sociopath torture her soul mate playing through her head.

"Keira, don't you understand?" Errol replied with a crooked smile. "We represent the absolute pinnacle of billions of years worth of evolution on this planet. You, myself, Jak, we are gods among mortals, life forms of near ultimate power!" he exclaimed, closing his left fist and letting Dark Eco lightning course over it, after which he calmed down for moment. "It's a terrible shame that we're on the opposite sides of this little chess game, and that I'm going to have to kill you. Well, actually, I'm rather looking forward to another shot at you, Jak, but as for you, Keira…"

"Normally," the tech head began, her voice deathly calm, but with a tangible edge to it, "this would be the part in which I tell you to go to hell, Errol, but seeing as how I'm pretty certain that you're heading there anyway, I'll settle for this."

And she promptly stuck her middle finger out at him. This had the result of causing every male present (Jak and Errol included) to stare at her with a look of the utmost astonishment.

"I see…" Errol remarked after a moment, before giving her a glare that would have caused most to quake in their boots. "So be it then."

With that he faded, and Kerrog once more appeared.

"Remember my proposal, Jak Mar," the Fallen Precursor said, his voice calm and cool. "I will give you one week to consider this and then I will contact you again."

After he finished, the Fallen Archon bowed once again, and with another burst of static and white noise, disappeared from the holotable.

"What the hell was that?" came Ashelin's voice, as she reappeared a few moments later.

Jak, Keira and Daxter merely looked at each other, despair welling up inside of them.

Why did it seem like bad things always happened right when things were starting to look up?

"Well," Jinx muttered in his usual sardonic voice, "for a guy whose trying to wipe us out, you have to admit, this Kerrog fellow was awfully polite."

* * *

The dark elf sat in one of the booths, lost within his own mind, oblivious to the world around him. Kage was much the same, nestled within Jak's head, meditating in an attempt to calm himself. The Dark Eco demon had always been extremely protective of his host and those his host cared about, and Errol's reappearance had sparked off some rather bad memories. Once the shock had worn off that Errol was apparently the enemy that Tarath had mentioned that he had sensed when they'd first met him back in the nest, Kage had become so enraged by the memories of Jak being tortured (which were much clearer for him than they were for Keira or Daxter, as he had actually been there) he had snapped.

Fortunately, while Kage had manifested himself, the anger had found a rather swift outlet, and a booth near the rear of the Naughty Ottsel was now little more than a smoldering pile of charred boards and ash.

After that, the oni seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly got a grip, feeling immensely ashamed at what he had just done. Daxter, however, wasn't at all upset, as he was enraged to a similar degree. In fact, he even offered to see if he could scrounge something else up that would have a far more dramatic effect when it was hit with a Dark Eco attack.

Kage had declined, and Jak had been swift to regain control. However, he could scarcely blame his alter ego for what he had done. However, they had more important things to worry about right now, such as trying to take the city back. None of them had the slightest intention of surrendering to Kerrog, particularly now that they knew that Errol was on his side.

That bit of thought made Jak wonder if the Archon had really known what he was getting himself into when he had taken Errol in or whatever exactly he had done to get the Ascended Channeler on the side of the Fallen Precursors. After all, the former K.G. commander had always been a little… unstable, and Jak was certain that a fall into a canyon full of Dark Eco in combination with the awakening of his powers could not have helped in the department of Errol's mental health.

He looked back up abruptly, his gaze focusing on Torn and Jinx, both of whom were busy chatting with Ashelin, still trying to see if they could figure out a way to get out of this mess they were in. They were all talking in low tones, their faces the very images of concentration. They knew that they were walking the edge of a knife here, even with his return. One misstep and all would be ruined.

Finally, after a seeming eternity, Ashelin bid farewell, and her image faded from the holo table. Sighing, Torn called for everyone's attention.

"Okay, everyone," he said, his usual growl coming into his voice once again as he called up a diagram of the whole city, "we've just been talking with Ashelin for a while, and we think we might have a way of trying to get out stinking hides out of this mess once and for all."

"Do tell, oh hackjobing one," Daxter responded, a glare in his eyes telling all present that he had not forgotten what Torn had done to his sign.

If the insult bothered the Revenant commander in the slightest, he did not let it show.

"Our supplies are starting to run out, and I think that our mechanized pals and the Metal Heads both know it," he said in a calm, matter of fact tone. "We've got to either get reinforcements or try to abandon the Harbor Sector to the enemy. Now, Ashelin would much rather that we manage to pull off the first one, as after all that's happened, she'd rather us not have to pull back and revert to square one on this deal." He paused for a moment, making the holo table focus on the Industrial district.

"The biggest problem that we've got is how to get guys in here," he continued. "Now, the tech heads have been hard at work for a while, now, and they think they might have a way for us to bring down the Lockdown. However, even if that happens, the flyboys aren't going to be able to get a single drop ship in over here due to a massive amount of antiaircraft batteries that the Death Bots have set up in the Industrial District. We thought about trying to go over the West side, but Ashelin figures, and I agree, that it'll probably be easier for us to knock out the anti air guns than deal with swarms of Metal Heads," He said as he looked over to Jak. "The Governess wants you and Keira to lead a Revenant squad into the area via the sewers, and then we're going to try and rig up some of Jinx's homemade goodies to the guns. Once we've taken this section," he highlighted the region of the Industrial District that was closest to the path that ran between the Harbor and the Residential Sectors, "our pilots should be able to get us enough supplies and troopers to hold off any enemy advancements for a while."

"But that's still just delaying the inevitable, isn't it?" the dark elf asked, a frown upon his face.

"Ashelin didn't come to this decision lightly," the haggard commander said after a moment's pause, "but she's decided to implement a bombing strike against the Industrial district. Most of the stuff in there is pretty torn up anyway, so we figured it wasn't much of a loss."

"What about the friendlies?" came Keira's voice, as she looked up from the Hunter Killer head that she'd brought back from Phoenix's tomb, which she was still working on.

"You mean the robots that appear to be on our side?" Cody asked, guessing at what she meant.

"Yeah," the tech head responded with a nod.

"We're not really sure what to do about them, why do you ask?" Torn inquired, cocking his head towards her in a quizzical manner.

"Because I've been going through these circuit boards again," she said, brandishing the Viper head for all to see, "and I think I've reached a conclusion about what in the world it is that's causing these things to start turning on their buddies."

"Just make sure you explain it in English so those of us who are not techno whizzes can understand ya," Daxter remarked from were he was still reclining in Tess' arms.

"The changes have been made to the core motherboards," she explained, pausing for a moment to make certain that a certain fuzzy animal was still with them, "and they really aren't that complicated. Mostly, our hacker friend has caused a simple binary change in their primary logic processors which results in these rogue droids have different targeting alignments than the rest of the Death Bots."

"You mean the guy just switched what was in the foe column over to the friend one and vice versa?" Jinx asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Pretty much," the aqua haired elf replied with a nod, "but that's not the tricky part. What's complicated is actually getting to where you can access that stuff. You've got to get past more computerized security panels in these things than I've ever seen before, to say nothing of the fact that you'd actually have to sneak in and reprogram them in the factory, so you'd have the local electronic defense networks to worry about."

"How many defense networks are we talking about, here?" Jak asked his wife, curious as to where she was going with this.

"Somewhere in the neighborhood of three or so hundred, and it took me about twenty seconds to crack each one, mostly because I can only move these fingers of mine," she waggled the mentioned appendages to emphasize her point, "so fast."

"So were looking at about an hour and a half to hack one of these suckers?" Jinx responded, not understanding it. "It doesn't seem like our pal here could move fast enough then."

"No elf could," Keira replied with a shake of her head, "which is why I don't think we're dealing with an elf, or any other form of biological life for that matter."

"So then what the heck are we dealing with here?" Cody asked, his accented voice laced with confusion.

"I think our mysterious ally is an A.I.C." she said, nodding her head slightly as if to reassure herself.

"A what?" Torn inquired with a raised eyebrow, looking at her as if she had just spoken in a foreign tongue.

"An Artificial Intelligence Construct," the tech head explained. "It's the only thing that seems to make any sense to me. This thing is moving way to fast for it to be someone hacking with a keyboard, only a computer could achieve the speed necessary to bypass those protocols and fend off any security that it might encounter before the whole factory knew that someone was snooping around." She paused for a moment, taking the time to look around at the others. "However, the key point here is that its movements and accomplishments are too great for it to be a simple program, this had to have been done by something that was self aware and capable of thinking for itself. That makes the only logical possibility an AI."

Jak thought it over in his head, and after a few minutes, he realized that his wife might have been on to something. True, there were no official records of any self aware computers ever having been created in Haven, but that didn't mean that there couldn't be any. After all, Sentinel had kept a silent vigil over Mar's final resting place for hundreds of years without anyone being any the wiser, even though he was literally right underneath them.

'**_Maybe we can let them know. We're heading over there to the Industrial District, so why not try and find them?' _** Kage mused, scratching his chin, and Jak nodded, having reached a similar conclusion a moment earlier.

After all, it wouldn't exactly be very difficult to find them. Cody stated that they were in a state of open rebellion against the greater portion of the Death Bots forces. Therefore, it would seem logical that they would simply have to listen for the sound of battle. Maybe if they were lucky, the little ruckus that they were hoping to stir up would bring the mavericks running to them.

After all, it was about time something went their way and stayed going their way.

He quickly voiced his opinion to the others and they began hatching the first step in a long series in which they would take back their home.

* * *

"Do you really think they'll surrender?" Nira asked, the Zealot looking over at her superior as he ended the broadcast.

"No, but we have at least given them the opportunity to do so," Kerrog said with a sigh. "It's what Tarath would do, were he in this situation, and something he'll doubtlessly propose to us." The Fallen Archon said, lowering his head until he cradled his chin in his palm. "Either that, or he'll try to come up with a truce or something of that nature. Unfortunately, such a measure is doomed to failure, seeing as how our brothers won't give us the Terraforming files, and we're not about to leave without them."

"You're not looking forward to getting your vengeance upon them for what they did to you?" Errol responded, confused by the topic.

"Kor and his children already brought vengeance down upon them," the white armored warrior stated, closing his eyes as his thoughts drifted to his brothers. "Now, I would prefer a peaceful solution, but I doubt that such a solution could be reached. No, Errol, it will come down to a battle, so you needn't worry. You'll have a chance for your own revenge."

With that, Kerrog turned and left the bridge, heading for the nearest training arena.

He had not forgotten how Tarath had bested him in the last great battle of the Kinslayer War, and he knew that he still had to polish his skills if he hoped to come out on top.

* * *

&

* * *

So, Errol's back in the picture, and the good guys have more problems coming their way. Expect for them to meet their mysterious savior in the next chapter.

As usual, any advice, constructive criticism, ideas on weapons and Veger torture, etc, are welcomed with open arms.

And now, good readers, I believe I owe you some clichés and the like…

Cliché 44

**Not Invented Here**  
Trade of technology will not exist. One place in the world will have all the techno-gadgets while all the others will be harvesting dirt.

Cliché 55

**Houdini's Postulate**  
Anyone, whether they are in the player's party or not, who is placed in any kind of prison, fortress, cell, or detention block will escape immediately. Party members will be freed either by a small child they just happened to befriend earlier in the day or by an unexpected disaster that overcomes the enemy base, NPCs will be freed by the released party members, and villains will break out all by themselves because they're such badasses. Once a person has escaped from jail, no attempt will be made by the police to recapture them in the future.

Cliché 60

**The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly Rule**  
a. Any male character who is ugly, malformed, or misshapen is either evil or so moral, spiritual, and/or wise that it's a wonder no one's proposed him for sainthood yet.  
b. Any male character who has a physical disfiguration that doesn't seem to impede him (i.e. a prominent scar across the face or a bad eye) is evil, unless he is the male lead, since scars are cool and no other good guy can be as cool as the hero. An exception is made for characters who are clearly ancient, and therefore automatically not as cool as the young hero.  
c. Any female character who is ugly, malformed, mishapen, or physically disfigured is evil, since all good female characters are there to be potentially seduced by the male lead -- see _Know Your Audience_.

Exceptions made for the hero's mentor, as he allowed to be nearly as cool.

Cliché 61

**Henchman Quota (Nana, Saki, and Mio Rule)**  
One of your antagonists will have three lovably incompetent stooges whom you fight over and over again. Although they're trusted with their boss's most important plans and equipment, they will screw up repeatedly, argue incessantly among themselves, blab secret information, and generally only come out victorious when their job was to be a diversion or a delaying tactic. A high point of the game will come when the True Villain reveals himself and you're able to convince the stooges you're all on the same side. They won't help you out any more successfully than they helped the antagonist, but at least you won't have to fight them any more.

Clichés 86-91

**Wait! That Was A Load-Bearing Boss!**  
Defeating a dungeon's boss creature will frequently cause the dungeon to collapse, which is nonsensical but does make for thrilling escape scenes.

**Supply and Demand Axiom**  
Killing a powerful enemy will usually yield an item or weapon that would've been extremely useful if you had gotten it before killing that enemy.

**Edison's Lament**  
No switch is ever in the right position.

**Well, That About Wraps It Up For God**  
All major deities, assuming they actually exist and weren't just made up by the Church to delude its followers, are in reality malevolent and will have to be destroyed. The only exception to this rule is the four nature spirits who have preserved the land since time immemorial, but now due to the folly of mankind have lost virtually all of their power and need you to accomplish some ludicrous task to save them.

**Guy in the Street Rule**  
No matter how fast you travel, rumors of world events always travel faster. When you get to anywhere, the people on the street are already talking about where you've been. The stories of your past experiences will spread even if no witnesses were around to see them.

**Wherever You Go, There They Are**  
Wherever the characters go, the villains can always find them. Chances are they're asking the guy in the street (see above). But don't worry -- despite being able to find the characters with ease anytime they want to, the bad guys never get rid of them by simply blowing up the tent or hotel they're spending the night in. (Just think of it: the screen dims, the peaceful going-to-sleep-now music plays, then BOOM! Game Over!)

And the next set of Evil Overlord rules…(14-25)

14. The hero is not entitled to a last kiss, a last cigarette, or any other form of last request.

15. I will never employ any device with a digital countdown. If I find that such a device is absolutely unavoidable, I will set it to activate when the counter reaches 117 and the hero is just putting his plan into operation.

16. I will never utter the sentence "But before I kill you, there's just one thing I want to know."

17. When I employ people as advisors, I will occasionally listen to their advice.

18. I will not have a son. Although his laughably under-planned attempt to usurp power would easily fail, it would provide a fatal distraction at a crucial point in time.

19. I will not have a daughter. She would be as beautiful as she was evil, but one look at the hero's rugged countenance and she'd betray her own father.

20. Despite its proven stress-relieving effect, I will not indulge in maniacal laughter. When so occupied, it's too easy to miss unexpected developments that a more attentive individual could adjust to accordingly.

21. I will hire a talented fashion designer to create original uniforms for my Legions of Terror, as opposed to some cheap knock-offs that make them look like Nazi stormtroopers, Roman footsoldiers, or savage Mongol hordes. All were eventually defeated and I want my troops to have a more positive mind-set.

22. No matter how tempted I am with the prospect of unlimited power, I will not consume any energy field bigger than my head.

23. (Palpatine's Lament) I will keep a special cache of low-tech weapons and train my troops in their use. That way -- even if the heroes manage to neutralize my power generator and/or render the standard-issue energy weapons useless -- my troops will not be overrun by a handful of savages armed with spears and rocks.

24. I will maintain a realistic assessment of my strengths and weaknesses. Even though this takes some of the fun out of the job, at least I will never utter the line "No, this cannot be! I AM INVINCIBLE!" (After that, death is usually instantaneous, or at the very least, inevitable.)

25. (Death Star/ Metal Gear Rule) No matter how well it would perform, I will never construct any sort of machinery which is completely indestructible except for one small and virtually inaccessible vulnerable spot.


	25. Meeting an old Friend

Hiya once again everyone, and I hope you are doing well today. Don't have much time, so I will make this fast.

I want to once again thank everyone who took the time to review, and that everyone else who read but did not review found the tale to their liking. As for this chapter, you can probably guess what's going to happen based on the title, and I hope you enjoy it.

Lawyers; you know the drill, I don't own a thing here except what I've thought up myself.

That said, here is chapter twenty five.

* * *

&

* * *

Meeting an old Friend

The Roller bot glanced about, its sensors scanning the region in which it was stationed, just like its seven fellows were. Of late, the guerilla activity that had plagued them since they had repulsed the elven attack on the Industrial District had died down. However, orders that had come directly from Grendel himself had doubled the guards that were present around key defensive structures. The Fallen Precursor AI had run through hundreds of scenarios, and genuinely believed that the brief pause meant that the rebels of both sides were gathering their strength for a major offensive, perhaps even working together.

The machine abruptly twisted, pointing its dual blasters towards an alleyway entrance off to its left, where it had thought that it had seen movement of some sort. Cautiously, relaying a signal to its comrades that it believed it had enemy contact, it stepped forward.

The poor machine never had a chance.

As the droid took its forth step in the direction of the possible disturbance, its motion sensors detected something behind it, and it abruptly spun about. What it saw, in the milliseconds that made of the remainder of its existence, was a strange blur. The next thing that it heard was the shrieking sound of metal and the strange, almost pain like sensation as it realized that it was being sliced in half by a blade.

As the first Roller was falling apart, its fellows were turning in the direction of the disturbance. The blur abruptly jumped up, and the next thing the machines knew, blaster fire was coming from behind them as their first target arced upwards and towards them. They shifted about, half of them turning to engage the unseen foe that was behind them while the other half engaged the one that was airborne.

Suddenly, from a third alley, directly across from them, came a hail of Blue Eco bolts. Two Rollers were caught in the initial burst, and subsequently fell over, their chasses smoldering from the sheer amount of firepower that had overcome them. A three shot burst of Yellow Eco came from the shadows a moment later, followed swiftly by a second. Just as many rollers fell, leaving a mere three left from the initial eight.

Less than a second had passed since the initial hard contact with their invisible enemies, and the machines knew then that they were outmatched. Once again though, they were devoid of any thoughts of self preservation, and where any normal foe would have likely fallen to their knees and begged for mercy, these ones stubbornly continued to try and fight, despite the fact that they had yet to discern even where their targets truly were.

A moment later, the one that was in the air landed. One of the Death Bots turned to try and face it, but even as it had begun its turn, a hissing noise split their air, followed by a clang as the mysterious wraith sliced its dual blasters off. Now having nothing with which to fight, the battle droid could only watch helplessly while this unusual and cunning opponent cut it in half, before charging forward to deal with its companions.

They were soon nothing more than smoking husks as well.

The whole assault had taken less than three seconds to execute, the result of several minutes worth of expert planning at the hands of the ruthless soldiers who were down deep in enemy territory.

His visor set to its heat mode, Jak smirked as he admired Kitetsu, always amazed by the sheer lethalness that the Vibrium blade possessed, the ease in which it split the Titanium-A armor of the Death Bots.

However, he quickly yanked himself back to reality, and looked up to find Torn and Tess emerging from the alleyway opposite of the one that he had leapt out of. They were all in their active camouflage (hence why he was using his heat vision), and communicating with the silent hand signals they'd been taught. The hardened commander raised his hand and wiggled his wrist around in a couple of complete circles, the signal for the group to close it up.

Jinx came out of the alleyway directly in front of the warehouse that they were attempting to infiltrate, his two submachine guns drawn, and a cocky smile that everyone knew was upon his face, even though it was hidden by his helmet. Shortly thereafter, Keira and Cody came out from behind him. Jak soul mate had to be doubly careful, as she lacked the ability to cloak herself, which, much to the girl's dismay, had regulated her to a rear guard action, making certain that nothing got the jump on them. However, she was not alone in that duty.

Daxter was upon her shoulder, his eyes constantly gazing about.

Inwardly, the ottsel smiled, despite the fact that he could feel fear gnawing at his entrails. He had actually volunteered to be brought along this time. Torn had initially snubbed the idea, thinking that Daxter would just be a weak link that needed to be protected, a snag in this already rather dicey mission they were trying to pull off. However, Jak had come to the rescue, pointing out the tactical advantage that the small rodent might offer.

After all, one never knew when there might be a ventilation duct they needed to get through that was too small for them, but jus the right size for someone who was a little less than a foot and a half tall. Thus, the Revenant had reluctantly allowed for the little guy to come along.

It was now time for Daxter to come through.

The door to this facility, in which an antiaircraft battery was concealed beneath the roof, was locked down, and while they could've blasted through it, they had all agreed that revealing themselves this early in the game was not the wisest of ideas. They were about three quarters of the way done with their little demolitions job, but that would be the easy part. All of the demo packs, which had been rigged up by Jinx in a back room of the Naughty Ottsel, were set to blow on a remote timer that the pyromaniac was carrying with them. The trick would be getting them all to go boom, thereby opening up a region that drop ships could them get through to land some much needed supplies and reinforcements, to say nothing of having to worry about brining the whole Death Bot army down upon their heads.

On the brighter side of things, there was even the hope that if they succeeded that the gap might be wide enough to slip a Halcyon transport craft through, which could possibly give them as many as twenty Scorpion M-808's to work with. None of them were sure exactly how effective the behemoth war machines would be against something like the Viper droids, judging by the speed at which the Hunter Killers were capable of moving. However, they were pretty certain the assault tanks would be able to effectively obliterate any Firestorms they should happen across.

Jinx reached into a supply pouch on his back, and withdrew a home made det pack, before handing it to Daxter. The ottsel looked kind of comical as he put the strap around his shoulder, as the demo charge was nearly as big as he was. Jak then reached down, and picked his friend up, while Torn removed the cover to the air vent. The dark elf then placed his friend inside and silently wished him the best of luck.

Daxter paused just long enough to make certain that the custom headset that Keira had made for him was secured, and then mustering up all the courage he could find, the ottsel climbed inside of the ventilation shaft. Jak watched his friend until he was no longer in sight, and then he turned around, gazing about and being ever alert for an enemy patrol.

* * *

Grunting and heaving, the furry rodent made his way up the shaft. This was the twelfth time that he had done this in the past couple of hours, and he was almost completely exhausted. Still, he thought to himself as he leaned against the metal wall, pausing for a moment to catch his breath, it was worth it. Finally, at long last, he had a chance to prove himself to the others. For once in his life since he had become an ottsel, he was proving to be an asset, rather than a liability.

His fur might have been matted with sweat from carrying the det pack, and his muscles might have been promising that they were going to make his life hell come tomorrow, but at that moment, Daxter couldn't have cared less.

Narrowing his eyes and grimacing, he once again began the trek to the top of the building.

Oh, if only the others could see him now, if only they could watch as the 'useless little side kick' proved to all the world what he was capable of doing. Unfortunately, they were all dead for the most part, either at the hands of the rampaging Hora-quan, or due to the ravages of time.

Nonetheless, as he reached the top, and shuffled over to the grate to the room with the anti aircraft battery in it, a smile was upon his furry visage.

However, his newfound courage was not a reckless one, and he checked around, looking from his hiding place and making certain there weren't any battle droids about. Then he checked again, and then a third time, until he was absolutely sure that he wasn't about to walk right out into a Death Bot. Only then did he slip one of his slender arms through the vent grating and begin to unscrew it.

Once he had succeeded in that endeavor, he made certain that he had a firm grip upon the grating, as he didn't want to drop it and make a gods awful racket, and carefully lowered it to the floor. He then dashed out, moving as quickly as he could towards the gun battery.

It took him five seconds to go the distance, and once he'd reached it, he didn't slow down for even a moment, quickly taking the det pack out of its covering and slapping it against the base of the gun. From there, it was a simple matter to flip the activation switch and arm the charge. Once the red light went on, indicating that the transmission receiver was active and awaiting its signal, the ottsel turned right around and all but flew back towards the vent.

His reaction was only natural, given that he had just armed an explosive with enough power behind it to turn his bar into a smoldering wreck.

Hastily replacing the vent grate, Daxter began to make his way back to where his companions were.

* * *

All of the charges had been planted, and so far the Death Bots appeared to be none the wiser. However, all parties involved were currently on the razor's edge of alertness, as the battle droids had proven many times in the past to be incredibly crafty adversaries. There was also the small complication of the fact that Errol had apparently spilled all of their military tactics to the enemy, so there was a good possibility that the machines might know what they were up to.

They could only hope that the gods were with them today and that their enemies had indeed remained oblivious to their actions.

"Okay, Jinx," Jak growled over a private comm. channel. "The show's all yours."

"Time to make things a little hot under the collar for these tin heads," Revenant Sixty Seven remarked, a rather jovial tone to his voice, despite the gravity of the situation.

With that, the demolitions expert with drew the detonator, and promptly activated it.

About a tenth of a second later, a loud roar shook the air as sixteen anti aircraft batteries were reduced to something that wasn't worth its wait in scrap metal. In fact, so great were the explosions that the resulting fireball blew out the hatches that the guns were hidden beneath, resulting in a manmade phenomenon that resembled a multitude of small volcanoes shooting up into the air.

"Whoa, talk about P for plenty!" Cody exclaimed, the disbelief evident in his voice. "Jinx, are you sure you made those yourself?"

"Yeah," the pyromaniac responded, no small amount of pride in his voice as he watched his toys in action.

"What the bloody hell did you put in those things?" the other soldier asked, clearly in awe of what the improvised explosive devices had just done.

"Miscellaneous explosive components, some old detonator caps I had on me, a few grenades, and some of that purple booze from Daxter's place," Jinx responded, and everyone knew he was smirking.

"You mean the 'Havenite Cyclone' brew?" the ottsel inquired from the shadows. "I wondered where all of that stuff went!"

"It's wonderful stuff, fur ball, I've got to get the recipe from you when this is all over with," the gray armored warrior responded. "It's a miracle, as not only will it render you pleasantly comatose when ingested, it conveniently blows up your enemies as well."

"Dare I even ask how you figured that out?" the ottsel inquired, cocking an eyebrow.

"That's another story for another day," Jinx responded enigmatically.

"It's a sad day when Haven's Special Forces have to resort to using alcohol as a weapon," Torn muttered in a manner that made it hard to tell if his was being serious or using dry wit.

"Can we focus on getting out of here, people?" Jak growled, all too aware of just how badly they could be outnumbered. "We need to let Ashelin know that we've managed to pull this job off."

Even as the words left his mouth though, a noise reached his sensitive ears. It was a high pitched whine, and he cocked his head to one side, curious to try and figure out what might have been causing the racket. Keira heard it too, and she knew it to be a sound she was much more familiar with than she would have otherwise chosen.

"Vipers!" she shouted over the comm. system.

Instantly, she and Daxter dove back into the shadows, trying to get out of sight, while the rest of the group stayed stock still, hoping that their active camouflage would keep them concealed from the enemy battle droids.

They wouldn't have to wait very long to find out, as less than ten seconds after they had initially heard the noise, the first of the Hunter Killer droids began to arrive. There were two of them, and they landed with a loud crunch, before instantly moving into action. They moved about, checking around the facility, searching for any signs of the enemy that had done this.

Jak and the others scarcely dared to breath, fearful that any movement might give away their positions. Luckily, the sealed environment provided by his armor and the extreme discipline that the Revenants conducted themselves went preventing anything disastrous like a sneeze from revealing themselves to the enemy.

Most unluckily though, no such movement was needed.

Jak saw one of the Vipers look over in their direction, its glowing photoceptors narrowing as it appeared to zoom in. It stared at where they were for just a second, and then he saw the submachine gun start to come up. He needed no heads up other than that, and he all but flew out of the alleyway, his cloaking field fading as he called upon his powers for a different means.

Even before he was out upon the main street, he'd extended his hand, and a dark bomb went flying from his outstretched palm. The Viper that was closer, the one that had initially noticed them, was able to leap backwards out of the way, but the attack smashed right into its partner. Unlike an organic creature, no screams came from within the obsidian orb that had suddenly appeared in the street. But when it cleared, what was left of the seven foot tall killing machine could have been swept up into a dustpan.

Jak hardly had time to relish in the destruction of the Death Bot, though, as he was already tangled up with the other one. He drew Kitetsu in a single motion, and summoned a phantom blade at the same time. In the next instant, he was fighting the second Viper.

He wouldn't be alone either, as the rest of the group, realizing that their cover had been blown, came charging out to assist. Keira was at the forefront of their rallying dash, leaping out of the alleyway with Masamune cocked back. Her jump went right over both of the combatants, and she twirled about in mid leap as she did so. The Viper fell back a second later, cleanly decapitated.

'**_And whoever said teamwork wasn't worth the time?' _**Kage inquired sardonically, a smirk upon his visage.

'_Someone who never had to tangle with Death Bots, I'd imagine,' _his host responded back in a similar manner.

"Alright, who moved?" Torn snarled, looking around at the squad, who remained cloaked just in case anything else was about.

"I don't think any of us did, leader-man," Jinx grumbled. "The blasted bucket heads must have seen us on infrared or something.

"Since when can these things see heat?" Cody inquired, remembering the Firestorm that he'd bested by using his active camouflage.

"Whoever's in charge of them must be giving them upgrades," Keira grumbled. "But that's not important right now. Let's just get out of here before more of them come."

"Ummm… too late," Daxter said, pointing from between Jak's legs at a distant intersection, where a small army of bots was currently dashing for them.

"I believe this calls for a tactical flanking maneuver," Jak muttered. "Time to run!"

Even as he gave the order, though, more whines came, and he could see no less than six Vipers dashing towards them with their overcharge boosters. The dark elf knew then and there that they would never have enough time to get out of the way, so he readied himself, preparing for the onslaught, ready to call upon Kage if need be.

Fortunately, such action would not be necessary on the part of the elves.

Both of the Ascended Channelers saw it in the rear view of their HUD screens, another Hunter Killer climbing up on top of a building behind them. However, one thing made them pause for a millisecond, and wonder what in the world was going on. This Viper was not the blood red of its fellows, but instead bore a color scheme that was the same royal blue of the Freedom League soldiers.

A moment later, it opened fire, the missile launchers set into its shoulders firing off four shots. The rockets streaked towards the incoming bots, exploding in front of them and showering the whole street with a hailstorm of debris.

The Hunter Killers leading the assault were not deterred in the least, but the lesser bots which were bringing up the rear behind them did not fair so well, many of them being destroyed by the shrapnel that came from the attack, or the ensuing fireball. However, there were still half a dozen Vipers, as well as squads of Rollers, Hawks, and three Firestorms that were bringing up the rear heading straight for them. Nonetheless, the message that the maverick Hunter Killer had sent was a most welcome one indeed.

The cavalry had arrived.

Around the corner behind them came a force of more Death Bots, these ones bearing the same regal blue coloring as the one on the rooftop. This unit was not nearly as large as the enemy one, but Jak felt relief as he stared at them. With these additional numbers, he knew they could deal with their opponents.

"Take cover, but hold your positions!" he shouted to the Revenants and to Daxter, who made haste to comply with their orders.

He and Keira stood their ground in the middle of the street, ready and waiting for the enemy to come to them. The Vipers were upon them seconds later, and the battle was on.

Keira opened up with something new. So far, she had been hesitant to use her weapon's own innate abilities, not knowing when she would get another chance to stock it up on Light Eco, but now that that was no longer a problem, she decided that it was time to let her mechanized opponents see what she could really do.

Grabbing Masamune around the middle, she began to whirl the naginata around with both of her hands. As the weapon became little more than a spinning blur, she leveled it at the nearest viper. At the same time, she focused inward, calling upon her own powers, preparing a deadly combo for the machine that was lunging at her. In the next instant, she began to glow, and shortly thereafter, a light filled the air that would have made even the highest quality flash grenade green with envy. The blast was relatively short ranged, but every bot within about forty feet of her found itself deprived of its ability to see. Now blinded, they would have no warning of what was coming their way, no chance to dodge the attack.

A burst of Light Eco shot out of the Masamune, spinning around in a whirlwind type manner and streaking straight towards the Hunter Killers. The first one was hit dead on, and immediately, its armor began to flake off, its internal circuitry becoming exposed as the power of the attack slammed into it. The machine stood its ground though, and was even able to calculate the relative position of its adversary based on the direction from which the strange ability was originating from.

Keira, however, had anticipated the machine's counterattack, and simply ducked down underneath the bolts. While this evasive maneuver did require for her to stop her attack, she quickly followed through with a second one. Deftly spinning her weapon, she brought it down, letting the blade scrape along the tarmac. Masamune flashed again, and a fiery wave of Light Eco streaked towards the Hunter Killer. The machine, still somewhat blinded, never had a chance, and the wave caught it right in its middle, cleaving it in half. The two parts of the bisected machine fell to the ground, sparking.

Jak was also tapping into his weapons abilities as a pair of Vipers closed in on him. Both Kitetsu and its phantom twin glowed as he began to weave the blades back and forth. Waves of Dark Eco flew from the katanas, speeding towards the two Death Bots. The second one having more room to dodge, was able to evade the attacks, but its closer companion was not so fortunate, and one of the waves struck it along the arm, cracking its armor plating and exposing the servos beneath it.

After that, they were upon him, and the dark elf found himself having to whip his twin swords back and forth in order to keep the plasma claws from tearing into him. However, he was now more experienced in dealing with these mechanized monstrosities, and while he was on the defensive, he was busy looking for holes in their defenses that he could exploit. His opportunity would come soon enough.

They were at forty five degree angles from him, and as he again blocked their strikes, he saw his chance. Taking advantage of his superhuman strength and reflexes, the Ascended Channeler leapt off of the ground, and angled himself to where he slipped between the two battle droids. They twisted about, lightning quick in an attempt to get him back in their viewing fields, but by that time, he had already struck. The shadow blade came down, striking the damaged Viper along its right arm. There was a shriek if metal being sliced, and the arm fell to the ground, the hand twitching and firing off a few rounds from its submachine gun as it did so.

He followed this through with another weapon technique. As he had in his battle with Errol, those many months ago, he pointed both of the weapons towards the ground, the hilts being about even with his waist, and then he ripped them upward in a violent motioned that seemed to cut the air itself. An X shaped blast of Dark Eco came off of the weapons. They stopped after going about five feet, but the damage they did to the wounded Hunter Killer was evident.

As the burst smashed into its chest, Jak could see the chassis crack and melt under its fury, and he lunged forward as the Death Bot reeled backwards, bringing Kitetsu and its shadowy copy up and cocking them back for a powerful strike. He brought them forward, crossing them over each other and slicing into its neck. The bot stood still for a moment, and then slumped to the ground, cleanly decapitated. Smirking behind his helmet, he turned to face the other battle droid, whirling his swords about, daring it to come and meet him.

And he was not the only one who was busy either.

Torn leaned out from behind the cover of a building, sighting up a Roller and firing off a burst as it began to uncurl. It retaliated by unleashing its twin hand blasters upon him. However, the Eco bolts buried themselves into the far side of a building, as he was already well out of the way. He ducked down, squatting to his knees before poking around the corner again. This time, his shots hit the droid squarely on its hip joint, and he was forced to hold back a chuckle as the burst blew it off, leaving the droid to hop around on one legs as best it could… which wasn't very well at all.

A loud whoosing sound filled the air as the bot fell to the ground, and the grizzled Revenant saw what looked like a grenade streak into the largest concentration of Death Bots. A fireball appeared a moment later, flowing outwards with such force that even at this distance, he could feel the heat from it.

As the fireball became a small mushroom cloud, another shot came in, this one a large burst of energy. It collided with the survivors of the first attack, and the resulting detonation was even larger than the first. So large, in fact, that Torn looked back to see what had caused it, and found a maverick Firestorm getting to its feet, the large, cannon type weapon on its back folding up and back over its shoulder. It was all he could do not the gawk at the sight, and thank the merciful deities that neither he nor his men had ever been on the business end of one of those weapons.

By that time, the rest of the friendly droids were rolling into position, and beginning to attack the Death Bots. Their coordination was unbelievable, something that Torn found himself in awe of. Here a pair of Vipers dashed ahead, before circling a Firestorm and quickly cutting it down, afterwards turning their weapons upon the lesser battle droids. There a squadron of Hawks came in from above and behind, attacking the enemy units from the rear.

Between the two groups, the enemy was swiftly dealt with and the situation brought under control.

After that, though, there was an uneasy silence that fell upon the blasted and ruined streets, as elf looked upon droid, the former not exactly certain what the latter was about to do.

However, much to the relief of all, the maverick units lowered their weapons, and began to withdraw from the area, doubtlessly wishing to get lost before more Death Bots could arrive. One of the Vipers paused long enough to turn towards Jak, and give a 'follow me' motion with its left hand. The dark elf nodded, and motioned for the rest of the group to fall in behind him. They then began to follow their strange allies, wondering where this would take them.

* * *

Much to their surprise, their journey led them to the old power plant. The elves stared around, wide eyed and a little nervous about all the battle droids that were to be found here. Hunter Killers, Rollers, and even a few Spiders were to be found roaming around inside the compound, and all of them were surprised to find out just how large this rogue force was.

They were led inside by the silent machines, and Jak couldn't help but be taken back by the memories that he had of this place. It was here that he'd been sent out to the strip mining operation, where he'd first met Vin. The eccentric engineer had died months ago when Kor had assaulted their city, but the dark elf, and everyone else had known, deep down, that he'd been the one who'd somehow managed to get the defensive Shield Wall back online, which had saved all of their tails.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of those thoughts. They had another war on their hands now, and it would need all of his concentration and effort to see this one through to its end.

* * *

After many minutes, their 'escort' brought them to what appeared to be some sort of command room. Instinctively, they looked about, wondering where the person or thing in charge was.

"Is this the part where we are supposed to say 'take us to your leader?'" Daxter inquired, from his place upon Jak's shoulder.

"I see that you've still got the rodent with you," a disembodied voice grumbled, causing everyone to look about, seeking its source.

All of them, except for Jak. The Ascended Channeler cocked his head in surprise, while his inner demon was once more slack jawed. It seemed fate was to be forever throwing at them people who they thought were dead, but weren't.

"Vin?" he exclaimed, unable to believe that the old elf was still alive.

"In a… manner of speaking," the voice replied in a somewhat amused tone.

The screen in the center of the room came to life then, revealing a brightly glowing figure that did indeed appear to be the half crazed, high strung tech head that they all knew, complete with the bizarre goggles that he'd always had on.

"What the?" Jinx exclaimed, not at all prepared for this.

"I knew it!" Keira shouted, pumping her fist into the air, before becoming more subdued. "Vin… how did you… you know…"

"It's a long story," the image on the screen replied.

"Does it look like we're going anywhere?" Jak inquired, smiling behind his helmet.

* * *

"So you're not really Vin," Daxter muttered after the A.I. had finished his tale.

"Yes, and at the same time, no," the construct replied with a shrug. "I have all of the memories, personality, and what not from my creator, but I am not in fact him. Still, for the sake of not further confusing everyone, just call me by that name, if it's okay?"

"This just keeps getting weirder by the second," Torn muttered, leaning back against a wall and staring down at his morph-gun. "Still, I guess we've got a lot to thank you for."

"Just doing my job," Vin replied, smiling down at them. "But we're nowhere near through yet. Even if you take back the Industrial District, you've still got to take out the factory where these Death Bots are being constructed."

"Where's that?" Jak asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I've managed to find its location," the A.I. said, before fading away and letting an image of the facility pop up on the screen. "It's about a hundred or so miles north of here, but assaulting it will be tricky."

"Why?" Torn asked, rather eager to pay back the machines that had turned his home into rubble.

"Because the facility's airborne," Vin replied.

"Say that again?" Daxter exclaimed in disbelief. "How do you keep a factory large enough to turn out an army up in the air?"

"With enough Eco to keep this city powered for a couple of months," was Vin's sardonic reply. "And to make matter's worse, it's got a guardian of its own."

"What kind of 'guardian' are we talking about here?" Tess inquired, worried about the construct's apparent uneasiness.

"I'm not certain, but I think it's a Fallen Precursor A.I." he responded, reappearing on the screen. "There's no way you'd be able to take that factory down unless you removed him from the equation first, and that's something I'd have to do."

"I take it you have a plan then?" Keira said, looking up at him.

"Yes, actually, I do," Vin replied. "My belief is that the Death Bots, are without a doubt, a greater threat than the Metal Heads, and they should be dealt with first." He told them, raising a finger as if to accentuate his point. "I believe that we need to drive them out of Haven first, and while their still reeling from that defeat, launch an assault upon the production facility. If you can get me into that place, I should be able to initiate contact with this enemy A.I., and attempt to delete him."

"That seems uncharacteristically brave for you," Torn remarked, cocking his head at the image.

"What can I say?" he responded with a shrug, "I think you guys are finally starting to rub off on me."

"What about the Metal Heads?" Daxter asked, not about to forget those little monstrosities.

"My suggestion would be for you to initiate a defensive guard against them for the time being, just until we can deal with the Death Bots," Vin responded, tapping his index finger against his chin. "Can you get a hold of Ashelin and find out what she thinks of this plan?"

"I think that can be arranged," Torn responded with a nod, "if you can get me a link through to her."

"You mean if I can bypass the Lockdown?" Vin responded, giving the group a look that said 'you're kidding me, right?' "Just a second and I'll have her on the line."

Jak just smiled and looked over to Keira. It appeared as though things were finally starting to go their way.

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Sorry that Vin's role in things was a little short in this chapter, expect to see him involved in an all out brawl with Grendel in the coming future. Speaking of which, any ideas on that fight would be greatly appreciated, as it'll be my first time venturing into 'cyberspace' combat.

And as per usual, any advice, constructive criticism, ideas, flames are welcome at this story or at any of my others, so don't hesitate to let me know what you think.

Now, I believe I owe you some clichés and Overlord stuff…

Cliches 96-104

**I'm the NRA (Billy Lee Black Rule)**  
Opposition to gun control is probably the only thing you could get all RPG characters to agree upon. Even deep religious faith and heartfelt pacifism can't compete with the allure of guns.

**Three Females Rule**  
There will always be either one or three female characters in the hero's party, no matter how many male characters there are.

**Experience Not Required**  
When the main character is forced to do some complex or dangerous task for the first time, even though he has never done it before he will still always be better than the oldest veteran.

**Law of Reverse Evolution (Zeboim Principle)**  
Any ancient civilizations are inexplicably much more advanced than the current one.

**Science-Magic Equivalence (Citan Rule)**  
Although mages' specialty is magic and scientists' specialty is technology, these skills are completely interchangeable.

**Law of Productive Gullibility (Ruby Rule)**  
Whenever anybody comes up to you with a patently ludicrous claim (such as, "I'm not a cat, I'm really an ancient Red Dragon") there's an at least two-thirds chance they're telling the truth. Therefore, it pays to humor everyone you meet; odds are you'll be glad you did later on.

**Perversity Principle**  
If you're unsure about what to do next, ask all the townspeople nearby. They will either all strongly urge you to do something, in which case you must immediately go out and do that thing, or else they will all strongly warn you against doing something, in which case you must immediately go out and do that thing.

**Near-Death Epiphany (Fei Rule)**  
If the party is not dealing damage to a boss character, then there's a better-than-even chance that someone in the party will suddenly become enlightened and instantly acquire the offensive skill that can blow the creature away in a matter of seconds.

**Wutai Rule**  
Most RPGs, no matter what their mythology, include a land based on ancient Japan. Full of pagodas, shrines, shoguns, kitsune, and sushi, this completely anachronistic place is the source of the entire world's supply of ninja and samurai characters.

And now Evil Overlord Rules 26-37

26 No matter how attractive certain members of the rebellion are, there is probably someone just as attractive who is not desperate to kill me. Therefore, I will think twice before ordering a prisoner sent to my bedchamber.

27 I will never build only one of anything important. All important systems will have redundant control panels and power supplies. For the same reason I will always carry at least two fully loaded weapons at all times.

28 My pet monster will be kept in a secure cage from which it cannot escape and into which I could not accidentally stumble.

29 I will dress in bright and cheery colors, and so throw my enemies into confusion.

30 All bumbling conjurers, clumsy squires, no-talent bards, and cowardly thieves in the land will be preemptively put to death. My foes will surely give up and abandon their quest if they have no source of comic relief.

31 All naive, busty tavern wenches in my realm will be replaced with surly, world-weary waitresses who will provide no unexpected reinforcement and/or romantic subplot for the hero or his sidekick.

32 I will not fly into a rage and kill a messenger who brings me bad news just to illustrate how evil I really am. Good messengers are hard to come by.

33 I won't require high-ranking female members of my organization to wear a stainless-steel bustier. Morale is better with a more casual dress-code. Similarly, outfits made entirely from black leather will be reserved for formal occasions.

34 I will not turn into a snake. It never helps.

35 I will not grow a goatee. In the old days they made you look diabolic. Now they just make you look like a disaffected member of Generation X.

36 I will not imprison members of the same party in the same cell block, let alone the same cell. If they are important prisoners, I will keep the only key to the cell door on my person instead of handing out copies to every bottom-rung guard in the prison.

37 If my trusted lieutenant tells me my Legions of Terror are losing a battle, I will believe him. After all, he's my trusted lieutenant.


	26. The Retaking of Haven

Hello people, been a while, I know, but things have been pretty busy around here, and my latest bout with writer's block most certainly has not helped. Little unsure about how to proceed with the next chapter as well, for reasons I shall explain at the end.

Many thanks to all who have read this story, especially to those of you who have reviewed.

Lawyers: I own nadda, so don't bug me.

Without further ado, here's the chapter.

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The Retaking of Haven

In the Industrial District, chaos reigned.

Elves and robots clashed among each other, Eco bolts and explosions filling the air as one side fought desperately to retake their home, while the other fought with equal tenacity to repel them once again.

The battle had started some thirty minutes ago, with a coordinated attack between the Freedom League soldiers and Vin's maverick army. It was difficult to say who was having better progress out of the two. The rogue Death Bots fought with the same egoless determination as their foes, though their combat protocols had been slightly tweaked and upgraded by the AI that had commandeered them, making them far more effective in battle. However, the elves fought with a ferocity that could only have come from a biological organism that was determined to win at any cost.

Regardless of which one was the more effective fighting force, the Death Bots were having a harder time repelling this attack than they had with the first one. This was due in part to several reasons. First, the elven attack was far more concentrated and swift this time around, as they weren't trying to retake the whole city in one fell swoop. As a result of the defensive action from the West side, meant simply to keep the Metal Heads bottled up until they could remove the Death Bots from the picture, the battle droids were having to deal with an enemy force of nearly three times what had been launched at them last time.

Secondly, the Death Bots had lost the element of surprise. The elves were aware of their tricks, and were ready for them. They also now knew of the Hunter Killers, what they were capable of, and how to deal with them. Vipers were dealt with through the use of plasmite RPG launchers, flue rod cannons, and vulcans, which Ashelin had made sure that every platoon had at least a pair of. As for the Firestorms, the soldiers typically just called in air strikes on them, or left the slow moving behemoths for the scorpion assault tanks to deal with.

However, this was not to say that the battle droids were going down without a fight.

Torn let fly an oath and threw himself around a corner, barely dodging a torrent of energy fire coming from a Roller bot. The Revenant commander snarled, reaching up to his bandolier and yanking out a grenade, before pressing the button on it. The plasmite explosive burned as he ignited it, and he leaned around the edge of the building, before throwing it like a fastball right at the mechanized soldier. The grenade hit, and stuck fast to its target. A moment later, the grenade went off, and he smiled grimly as he heard the remains of the droids falling to the ground.

He came back to the street after that, crouched down and moving forward slowly. His morph gun was set to its assault rifle mode, and he quickly sighted up a Hawk that was trying to take aim at him. A three shot burst flew from the barrel of his gun a moment later, striking the machine right in its visual sensors. Blinded and suffering from a partially fried motherboard, the Death Bot spun out of control, before falling from the sky and impacting upon the pavement.

"Move, move!" he growled over his comm., and order that his soldiers were quick to comply with.

Jinx was out and moving as fast as he could, eager to catch up to his old commander and get some payback on these machines. His twin submachine guns rattled as he sent streams of blue Eco bolts at an enemy formation. The platoon was composed of Rollers for the most part, and the barrage scythed through them like wheat. The pyromaniac smirked behind his helmet, snickering at the destruction that he had unleashed before retaliatory fire forced him to seek cover as well.

Tess and Cody were pinned down as well, and it quickly became obvious to Jinx that they had run into a driven attempt by the enemy to swat down the enemy offensive and send them packing once again. However, they were trained soldiers, and even though the nature of this battle prevented them from being able to make use of their active camouflage generators, they were still a very dangerous force. Even as they enemies were marching towards them, Cody could be seen priming the fuel rod cannon he'd gotten from a supply drop, ready to turn the Death Bot formation into a series of smoldering craters.

However, the heavy weapons expert would not have to make use of his trademark weapon just yet. There was a rumbling noise, and the next thing the gray armored warriors knew, seventy tons of divine intervention came barreling around the corner. The Roller bots scarcely had enough time to figure this abrupt change in the odds when the tank turned its primary cannon upon them. A beam of yellow death came form the end of the barrel, streaking towards them and exploding. A couple of seconds later, the clattering noise of debris raining down on the street could be heard, and Torn dared to peek back around.

Several battle droids were attempting to get back up, the concussion wave of the blast having knocked them to the ground. As it was, though, they would not get far before the tank's other weapons took them out for good.

Many hours had gone into studying how and why they had been so easily defeated by the Death Bots in the first go round over this sector, and Ashelin and the others had reached the conclusion that one of the primary reasons was that the tanks, although heavily armed and armored, could not defend themselves against fast moving enemies. The reason was believed to be mainly due to the massive 'dead zone' that the tank had, the region in which its primary cannon could not depress itself enough to fire. The daughter of Praxis and several of her closest officers had come up with a way that they could, at least in theory, counter this flaw.

Upon each of the tread pods of the M808's was a mounted machine gun that faced either forward or to the rear, depending upon which pod it was on. They were capable of rotating up to a hundred and twenty degrees in order to provide the maximum amount of covering fire for the weapons platform. However, the elves were also not stupid enough to believe that those operating these weapons would be able to do so without risking harm to themselves. Thus, a two paneled metal shield, which covered the range of the machine gun's rotation, provided cover for the soldiers to duck behind when they came under fire.

The soldiers manning these weapons were swift to eliminate any stragglers who tried to rise, their rapid firing weapons turning the Death Bots into hole-filled scrap within a matter of seconds.

That scorpion was quickly followed by two other assault tanks and a small battalion of regulars, and it only took Torn a signal glance to realize that this area of the sector was well on its way to being under their control again. Thus, he decided that he and the others would probably be more useful in another region of this conflict. A single order over their comm. links was all that was required to spur the Revenants into action. They moved out from behind their cover, and ducked into a back alley, their blood pounding in their ears and their adrenaline screaming for some more action.

* * *

Battles raged all over the Industrial district, the sheer ferocity of the elven and maverick droid attacks forcing the Death Bots into a slow but steady retreat. However, there was one exception to this, and that was the central part of the elven attack, the area in which Jak and Keira were to be found. They were the front runners in the spearhead of the strike, cutting down and destroying any battle droids that tried to stand in their way.

As it was in the case of the Revenants, the two Ascended Channelers had forgone any manner of stealth in their attack, and were currently in their combat forms.

A Viper came shooting down the street on its override boosters, careening towards its target at more than four hundred kilometers per hour. As it approached striking distance, the Hunter Killer activated its plasma claws and reared back to strike with them. However, as it went to land the blow, the demon that had been the target of the attack snapped up a shadowy blade and blocked the strike with ease. Before the advanced battle droid could even begin to bring its submachine gun up to fire at the Dark Eco demon, Kage sliced the weapon in half with Kitetsu.

Not wasting a second, the oni, a fanged smirk upon his face, reached up with his left foot, and wrapped his taloned foot around the Death Bot. With a burst of strength, he dug his claws into the machine's cranium, shredding the vital circuitry located there. Even as the machine spasmed and twitched, Kage twisted himself to the side, and wrenched the head clean off of the droid's shoulders.

It was rapidly becoming apparent that the time that he had spent observing these machines from within the mind of his host was paying off, if the trail of destruction behind him was to be any indication of his battle prowess.

A series of clanking noises reached the Dark Eco demon's ears, and he knew instantly that another squadron of Rollers was on its way to try and drive them back. Not two seconds later, they came barreling around the corner, before unrolling and getting into an attack position. In response, the oni spread his wings and let fly a roar that seemed to come from the very depth of his soul. Such was its power that any organic creature would have more than likely turned and fled then and there.

However, Kage knew that he wasn't facing organic opponents, and that droids could not be intimidated like that. His showy response to them had another purpose besides a futile attempt at frightening them: it had set him into the proper position to unleash an impulse attack.

His powerful leg muscles coiling like springs, the guardian devil leapt up into the air, dispelling the shadow blade in his off hand and releasing Kitetsu, leaving the dark katana to hover beside him. Once he was a sufficient distance off of the ground, he balled up, drawing his wings in close and crossing his arms over his armored chest. Dark Eco pulsed and flared within his palms and with the trio of talons on the tip of either wing. With a roar that equaled the first in power, Kage unleashed the attack.

Four spheres of Dark Eco sped downwards to the battle droids, hitting their formation and exploding with devastating effect. The twenty combat machines were reduced to scrap before they'd even been able to sight the oni back up.

Landing, Kage summoned another phantom sword, before charging ahead, a grim smile upon his muzzle at the thought of what he was doing, of all the deaths that he was helping to avenge.

Off to one side was his host's soul mate, who was also tearing a path of destruction through the enemy ranks. Both Kage and his host had to admit, that though Keira was not truly an arch angel, her resemblance had certainly aided with the moral off the troops. After all, it was pretty hard to feel pessimistic if it appeared as though the heavens themselves sided with you.

Masamune held easily in her right hand, the Ascended Channeler charged forward until she was even with Kage. The two of them looked ahead, and saw more droids coming towards them, before exchanging a glance and nodding.

The girl paused for a moment, bringing up her left hand and focusing inward for a second or two. A bluish white glow began to emanate from it, and she clenched her hand into a fist before drawing it up behind the right side of her head. Images of the last battle for Haven churning within her mind, she snarled, and threw her hand out. From her palm came ten blasts of energy, each was long and thin, resembling a beam of light, and they streaked unerringly towards their targets.

These did not cause any massive explosion or the like when they connected, just a small hole within the armor of the chosen battle droids, though it did prove sufficient enough to destroy the rank and file ones that had been hit. However, the true power of the attack was revealed when one saw that two of the targets had been the aerial Hawk units. The support craft were able to use their engines to quickly zip out of the way of the beams. However, Keira saw this, and with a slight twitch of her eye and a subtle gesture of her left hand, the beams changed course, and impacted upon their targets. The light in the droids' visual sensors died, and they fell to the ground, breaking apart when they hit.

"Nice shot," Kage muttered in his distorted voice, before focusing and preparing to charge up a dark spear.

What he was about to do was not something that he or his host had ever done in battle before. Indeed, it had taken quite a bit of practice in their free time for the dark elf and his guardian devil to start getting the hang of it. Normally, calling upon their Channeling powers had required a free hand from which to summon the Dark Eco. However, rather than wasting the Dark Eco that was kept within Kitetsu's crystal by dispelling yet another shadow blade, Kage merely stuck his index and middle fingers forward. It required a little extra concentration than normal, but he was nonetheless able to launch the attack, firing it off towards the encroaching enemy.

The spear shaped blast of Dark Eco slammed right through a Viper, causing the Hunter Killer to stagger, though it did not fall despite the fact that there was now a good sized hole in the right side of its abdomen. The spear continued, destroying three more Death Bots before it finally dissipated.

This new manner of Channeling held promise, though they still had much work to do before they could start calling upon the higher level powers in this manner.

By this time, the mechanized soldiers were within firing range, and both of the oni and the angel were forced on the defensive as a barrage of Eco bolts came screaming in at them. Keira was able to hastily raise a shield of Light Eco around herself, but Kage lacked such defensive capabilities. Instead, the Dark Eco demon was forced to fall back on his blade skills, furiously working Kitetsu and its dark twin back and forth, deflecting bolts left and right, all the while moving about, at one point going so far as to throw himself into a sideways roll in order to dodge a particularly vicious torrent of blaster fire.

As a creature used to being on the offensive, this was not a position that exactly pleased Kage, and he snarled as he continued to deflect the shots being thrown at him, while both he and his host tried to figure out a way to turn the tide.

A loud booming sound from behind them would turn out to be the solution to their problem, as a shot from a scorpion tank exploded in the midst of the enemy ranks. It was by no means a battle ending shot, as most of the Hunter Killers in the formation were either able to dodge out of the way or put up with the abuse from the shockwave. However, it did throw off their aim, buying the Dark Eco demon the time he needed to retaliate.

As he charged towards the currently disoriented enemy, he let fly a blast of dark lightning. The bolts surged over a pair of Firestorms to the rear, eating through their armor and destroying the circuitry of their primary systems. The two heavy weapons platforms toppled after that, practically shaking the whole street as them impacted upon the tarmac.

An instant later, the oni hit the first of the enemy battle droids. A pair of Rollers were the first to go down, pieces of them falling to the ground as the twin blades Kage wielded sliced through them with deceptive ease.

The Dark Eco demon leapt forward after that, having noticed that a Viper was charging at him from one side. Kage hit the ground in a roll, coming up and twisting about, preparing to engage this newest foe, only to find that his host's soul mate more than had him covered.

Keira had taken to the skies, and then decided that dive bombing her adversaries was apparently the best course of action. Now Masamune was stuck through the chassis of a Viper, while her wings were wrapped around its arms, preventing it from bringing its weapons to bear upon her. Her features twisted into a grim smirk as she yanked her Precursor forged weapon out of the Death Bot, before spinning around and using her silvery wings to throw the dying machine into the ranks of its comrades.

Even as it was flying forward, the angelic Channeler was again charging at her foes, whirling her weapon around before falling upon them.

Behind her and Kage, the Freedom League forces were coming up behind them. Infantry and armored forces were providing what covering fire that they could, while at the same time trying to be certain that they were not about to accidentally hit one of the two Ascended Channelers. Despite all of this, they were able to deal with the Roller bots and any aerial Hawks with relative efficiency, while the heavy troopers or assault tanks did their best to take down the more dangerous Hunter Killers.

However, the droids were not the only ones taking causalities.

* * *

Off on one of the flanks, in a region where the two Channelers were not present, even the vindictive fury that Haven's finest were throwing at the Death Bots was not always sufficient enough to drive them back. Indeed, the third infantry division was getting bogged down as the battle droids attempted to mount a counter assault upon them. It wasn't mobilized yet, but there were some Hunter Killers that were trying to buy time for it to get under way, and everyone knew that it would spell very bad news for them if it did so. As much as could be spared was being diverted to that location, but the initial squadrons were dying in droves, as the second generation battle droids took out their heavy weapons specialists before moving onto the lighter infantry.

Sergeant Davis found himself knocked to the ground as a Viper launched a grenade at his group, where it promptly detonated and took out no less than ten soldiers. Crawling to where he was out of the direct line of fire, the blue armored soldier leaned around and took a few potshots at the one ton killing machine. However, if the Death Bot was bothered by the fire of Davis' assault rifle in any manner, it did not show it. Instead, it turned its lethal submachine gun upon him, and the elf only barely managed to get back out of the line of fire before the Eco bolts ripped through where he had been moments earlier.

"Mother of the Ancients!" he swore, gulping for a moment and trying to think of something.

He knew he had to think fast, as he could hear the rhythmic stomping of the machine drawing closer, and the rapid firing of its primary weapon, with the death cries of elves mixed in with it. Knowing that it was an almost futile gesture, but realizing that he had to draw the mechanized monstrosity attention away from his troops, he leaned out form around his hiding spot and fired off a couple of rounds at the Hunter Killer.

As expected, the large battle droid turned its aim upon him, and Davis was forced to duck back around the corner and retreat backwards a bit as a flurry of blaster fire ripped apart what he had been using for cover. Gulping once again, he pivoted back out, only to find that the machine's attention was taken up with another one of his soldiers.

A plasmite grenade came sailing in, burning like a small star and sticking to the Viper's chest. It exploded a couple of seconds later, rocking the machine back, but not doing much damage other than that. In retaliation, the Hunter Killer fired its submachine gun, and Benton closed his eyes as he heard the elf cry out, before going silent.

"Command!" he growled into his boom mike. "Where the hell is our armor support? We're getting ripped apart down here!"

"Roger that, sergeant," came the voice of an unnamed tech specialist on the other end of the line, "we've diverted a pair of scorpion's to your location, they are inbound and ETA is one minute twenty seconds."

"We don't have that long!" he snarled over the comm., having to speak up to be heard over a sudden explosion.

Still, there was nothing that could be done. With the street's grid like designs and whatnot, the scorpions could only move so fast, meaning that they were effectively on their own. Cursing his luck, but vowing that if he went down, he was going out fighting, the blue armored warrior leaned out and fired another pair of shots at his opponent. As luck would have it, his rifle shots were able to connect with the machines left elbow joint, and in a one in a thousand shot, penetrated to the primary servo motivator. An instant later, the Hunter Killer lost all control over the limb, and it fell limply to one side.

The shot had only removed the left arm, meaning that it could no longer use its plasma claws and that it would have a harder time bracing for the recoil of its shoulder mounted grenade launcher. However, it would at least stop the thing from rushing in and carving them all up like it had with his last platoon.

Nonetheless, Sergeant Davis in no way deluded himself into thinking that he had managed to cripple the machine, as its other two weapons were still capable of tearing through them, given the opportunity.

He checked his HUD clock, looking to see how much time he had left before those assault tanks arrived. Still a good minute to go and he swore under his breath.

It was then that he would spot the instrument that would possibly be the salvation for himself and the rest of his squad. Off on the other side of the street, still clutched in the hands of the now deceased elf that had wielded it, was a vulcan.

"Guys!" he called to his troops over the comm. link. "Try and keep that thing busy for a couple seconds, I've got an idea."

"Not like we've got much of a choice," one elf responded in a sardonic manner, but Davis could tell that they would do as they had been instructed.

Almost every surviving elf of the squad opened up a few seconds later, trying to draw the attention of the machine away from their leader. Throwing down his assault rifle, knowing it was all but useless against the Viper, Benton sprinted across the street.

The Hunter Killer saw the movement, and it paused just long enough to slot an elf that had made the mistake of leaning out too far from behind his cover, before it twisted about and tried to assess this new threat.

By this point in time, Davis was already halfway to his goal, willing himself to move as fast as he could, knowing that the killing machine behind him was more than liking already sighting him up. Sure enough, as he got within thirty feet of the vulcan, he heard the first staccato noises of Eco bolts being sent his way. Desperately, he lunged forward and tried to throw himself into a roll that would carry him the rest of the way to the weapon he frantically sought.

However, he did not move fast enough, and he felt pain explode through his legs and his back, before the force of the impact carried him past his intended goal, and he slammed painfully into the wall behind it. He knew he couldn't cry out and let the Hunter Killer know that he was still alive, as that would merely bring a second volley of blaster fire at him that would surely end his life… assuming that the wounds he'd just gotten were not already fatal in nature.

Slowly, praying he did not draw the Viper's attention, he rolled over and crawled towards the vulcan, trying to force himself not to think about the blinding agony that was surging through his body at the moment. After a few seconds of moving like this, he finally reached his goal, and after carefully prying the massive weapon out of the hands of the dead soldier, he braced the gun against the ground, lined up with the Hunter Killer, and squeezed the joystick like trigger.

A whine split the air, and moments later, the multi barreled weapon went into action. Hundreds of rounds flew from the end of the vulcan, where they impacted upon the Viper. The Death Bot was knocked backwards, but its armor held for a time, and it turned around, leveling its submachine gun to take care of this pesky biological once and for all.

However, as it lined the sergeant up in its crosshairs, another noise reached its audio receptors. The one ton machine turned just in time to receive a round from an assault tank right in its chest. A gaping hole was torn in its chassis, and it staggered, before its power systems overloaded, and the Viper went up like a firecracker.

"Now you guys show up…" Davis muttered to himself, dropping the vulcan and summoning up the courage to look and see what was left of him.

If he wasn't running on an empty stomach, he likely would have vomited…

The shot he had taken in the back didn't feel so bad, no doubt the heavier armor had protected him, but the same could not be said for his legs. One, his right, had been chewed off at the kneecap, and blood seeped out around the partial cauterization of the injury. His left leg wasn't much better off, as it was literally only attached by about half an inch worth of muscle and sinew.

He knew that shock was rapidly setting in, even as he faintly heard his troopers calling for a medic. It was entirely possible that he might live through this, but he knew that even if the medics managed to stabilize his condition, it would be weeks, perhaps months, before he returned to the battlefield.

His role in Haven's liberation was over.

* * *

The maverick battle droids were pressing their foes hard, despite their small numbers. Among the ranks was one unit in particular that was special. There was nothing to truly identify this Viper from the rest of its Hunter Killer brothers, as that would merely have presented a 'hey, look at me' style target. However, what was so usual about this one was that in a way, its overseer directly controlled it.

Though his memory core was still back in the relative safety of the power plant, and under heavy guard just in case something should go wrong, Vin had, for lack of a better termed, spawned off a copy of himself, and placed this separate yet connected consciousness within its central processors. This would allow for him to get a better 'look' at how things were going for his troops without having to directly risk himself. As a matter of fact, this would not have been the first time he had performed such a maneuver and had the shell in which the copy was housed be destroyed.

The first time it had occurred was with the Viper that had given Keira the chance she'd needed down in Phoenix's Tomb, though the girl did not know that, and likely never would, as the construct had no intention of boasting of its accomplishments.

So far, this unit was holding up fairly well, though it had taken a bit of battle damage, and Vin sincerely hoped to keep it that way. He did have a bit of an edge here, considering that his copy could make decisions and commands far faster than the standard battle droids could. However, he still had limits, as the machine's servos and limbs could only move so fast.

At the current moment, he had just reached the central rendezvous point to find that the group that Jak and Keira had been leading was already there and waiting for him.

"You've made good time," he said, his voice coming out slightly distorted over the external comm. system that he'd had installed onto this unit.

"You as well," Kage said with a nod of his head, while the nervous tapping of his foot talons against the dura-crete indicated that he wanted very much to return to the fighting.

There was the rhythmic marching of boots against pavement, and all three of them turned to see Freedom League soldiers come pouring past them, a sea of blue with a rare gray speck mingled in amongst them. One particular speck, his steel colored armor tinged with black, made his way towards the trio, pausing to salute Kage as he came up.

"How's the situation with the West Side?" Kage inquired of Torn, cocking his head to the side and staring down at the hardened commander.

"Rather well, for a change," was the Revenant leader's response. "The Metal Heads are trying their damndest to break through our defenses, but the Hellcats and Scorpion's are holding em back so far."

"Good," Keira said, tapping the butt of her Precursor made naginata against the ground. "Right now, we're just waiting on the third division, and then we're going to be ready for the final charge."

"How far out are they?" Torn asked them, a little bit uneasy at the delay, memories of the attack on the Metal Head Nest returning for a brief moment.

"They encountered an attempted counter attack, from what Command has relayed back to us," Kage said, his crimson eyes narrowing behind the visor of his helmet. "However, while they suffered some causalities they were able to get enough armor and air support to them in time to stop the offensive in its tracks. They should be here in about five minutes."

"That's a relief," Torn replied, and a faint sigh could be heard in his voice. "This is almost working out better than I'd hope."

"It's amazing what can happen when you have competent military leaders running things," Keira replied in a somewhat sarcastic manner, a frown on her face as she remembered all that had gone wrong last time.

After that, they went silent, and the soldiers the few minute breather that they had to either reload and check their weapons, or to apply med kits and the like to those who were wounded but still fighting.

Right on time, the third division came up to the plaza that they were in. They were also given a moment to pause and catch their breath, as Kage, Keira, Torn, and Vin made their way to the front. As the group passed the soldiers, they could see men and women giving them thumbs up, pumping their fists in the air, and generally rallying around them.

When he reached the front of the ranks, Kage paused and looked about, and determined smile upon his muzzle as he stared at the troops. Not all of them would make it though this final rush, that he knew. However, this time, they would be lives that had been spent, not wasted.

With a roar that caused the elves to take heart, the oni spread his wings and thrust both Kitetsu and its phantom twin into the air, before rushing forward, charging at the Death Bot lines that he could see trying to get set up in the distance.

His host's soul mate was to his side, while Vin's Viper used its powerful thrusters to keep up with them as well.

Behind them, thousands upon thousands of elves ran, battle cries upon their tongues and their weapons locked and loaded. This time, they knew, they would win back their home, no matter the cost.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a floating fortress a hundred miles to the north of Haven, another construct watched the battle unfold with a very different emotion. Grendel was rather upset with how the battle had been playing out, and though he regretted to think about it for even a nanosecond, he knew that he had miscalculated the aggressiveness that the elves were capable of. Truly, he would have never expected them to launch another such attack upon his forces, not after the bloodbath that had occurred the first time. Yet they had, and they were beating back his mechanized soldier's at almost every turn.

He was also relieved, and at the same time, curious, to have his earlier suspicions confirmed. It would appear as thought he elves did indeed have an AI construct working with them. But how, was the question that plagued him. Though his calculations as to the technological capabilities of these elves in relation to the rest of their kind indicated that at some point in time they'd had assistance from Precursors, he did not believe they were of sufficient capabilities as to produce artificial intelligences.

Furthermore, the way that this one operated, it didn't act like a Precursian AI, and that puzzled him even more. Against all possible odds and calculations, it appeared as though the blasted elves could make their own constructs. Furthermore, that left him with a lot of unknowns, and that made him nervous. He knew how to fight Precursian AIs, he done it before, and deleted quite a few, but he had no idea what to expect from this one. However, he knew that he would face it, and soon. It knew where his base was, and these elves didn't look like they were about to relent until the Death Bots were no longer a threat.

Growling, he opened up a comm. link to the Day Star, directly to Executor Kerrog's meditation chamber.

Sure enough, his leader was there, his eyes slowly opening as the beeping signal awoke him from the depths of his meditation.

"What is it, Grendel?" the Fallen Archon asked, a look of concern coming over his furry visage, as he knew that it must have been important for the AI to contact him like this.

"My apologies, my Excellency," Grendel's holographic self replied with a bow, "but my forces have been attacked, and we are unable to hold onto the Industrial District."

Kerrog's eyes widened slightly, but then they narrowed.

"Show me," he said, his voice neutral.

Grendel's image faded, being replaced with a map of the Industrial District, complete with diagrams showing enemy forces and their progress.

For a few moment's Kerrog watched, and the AI knew that his leader was carefully calculating what to do.

"Pull your forces back and guard the factory," he said after a time, "if we can hang onto that, we can create another army, and take the battle to them once more."

"I'll do my best, My Excellency," Grendel responded, before hastening to carry out his orders.

Without pausing, Kerrog stood and walked over to the control panel in his chamber. He pressed a few buttons, and a moment later, a holographic image of Dao'Drac appeared. The large Hora-quan was apparently discussing something with several Crab Head lieutenants, but as soon as he became aware that his master's eyes were upon him, he quickly turned and executed a hasty bow.

"Greetings, sir, I fear that you might have caught us at a bad time," he said in an apologetic tone, frowning slightly as well.

"How goes the battle?" Kerrog asked, correctly guessing that the enemy had lowered their protective Lockdown.

"Not as good as it might, my lord," Dao'Drac muttered. "We've attacked their lines four times, but they're too heavily entrenched, and they keep throwing us back."

"Grendel's forces aren't doing much better, and after they're doing forcing the Death Bots out of the city, the rest of their forces will turn and head for you," the Fallen Precursor said, his eyes narrowing while he rubbed his chin. "I want you to pull your forces back."

"What?" the Hora-quan leader said, unable to believe that he'd just been told to retreat.

"Yes, get your people out of there, our enemies have won this round," the Executor said. "I need you and your fellows to head to the production factory, we need to hold it if we're to mount a second offensive."

"As you wish, my lord," Dao'Drac responded with a bow, before shouting out orders to his subordinates.

As Kerrog killed the feed and reflected upon this sudden change, a bitter smile came over his face.

"Bravo, Jak," he muttered to himself, "you are proving to be a most worthy adversary."

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, and I have once again managed to remove an OC from the lineup, though in a slightly different manner this time. Hope you found it enjoyable, though I fear for the next chapter, as that's going to be the AI battle between Vin and Grendel…

As per usual, all forms of comments are welcomed with open arms, especially ideas on weapons and possible computer styled fighting techniques, as it is, the only real info I have is a brief scrap from the Halo: First Strike book between Cortana and a Covenant AI… provided I can find where my blasted sibling has hidden the book…

At any rate, I hope you have a great week, and I'll see you next time.

Oh yes, I forgot to mention this earlier, but my beta reader, animedragongirl, is in need of an editor herself for her Naturo fics, so if anyone would like to help her out, please let her know.


	27. Mind over Matter

(Emerges from the shadows, cowl over his face and a single candle held in his hands)

Greetings to you, everyone, and I apologize for the delay in updating. I also apologize for not responding to the reviews like I normally do, but my hotmail had a bit of a hiccup and seems to have misplaced most of the ones for this story, and I haven't had the energy to search for them, mostly because of something that happened this week.

On Tuesday, July 25th, a car near I-10 was clipped by a semi truck. The car was smashed up pretty badly, and the driver was killed instantly. The driver was Adam Spencer Smith, age 18, and he was a good friend of mine. His funeral was today, and it's been kind of hard. I've been doing my best not to think about it, but I can't really help it.

Adam was the proverbial gentle giant, a big kid with a smile and a heart to match. That grin… it never seemed to leave his face. It would change from time to time, usually becoming sneaky or sheepish right before he and his twin brother Brandon would pull off one of their famous practical jokes. I'll never forget the time that my little brother was giving me trouble in church, and the two of them managed to steal his shoes right off of his feet. We were all laughing about it later…

Church… I guess that's one reason I've really been thankful for him. My brother and I are kind of the black sheep of the flock, so to speak, and we've never really been accepted by the majority of the rest of the kids there. Adam and Brandon, however, were two of about four that gave us that friendship. Whether it was in Boy Scouts, on a community project, or making a comment on a particular church lesson, they never failed to bring a laugh about when they wanted to.

Adam was a masterful tuba player in our high school marching band, going on to become its captain. He was a skilled mechanic as well, taking classes at the local community college, and later, he planned to go to Wyoming Tech.

He always left you with a good impression of him, and it showed Thursday, when his wake drew more than six hundred friends, family members, co-workers, and acquaintances.

I don't know if Heaven has an internet, but if you're reading this, my friend, I want you to know that your family and friends will miss you, even if the separation is only temporary, a blink of an eye in the long run.

In loving memory of one of the greatest human beings I have ever had the privilege of knowing, I dedicate this chapter. It is not much, but it is all I have to give…

* * *

&

* * *

Mind over Matter

"Watch it, Torn, you've picked one up!" Kage's voice growled over the comm., and the commander looked down at his radar, letting a curse fly as he realized that his Hellcat cruiser had yet another of the little robotic aircraft on its tail.

"Tess, blow that thing to the Nine Hells before it knocks us out of the sky!" he all but roared as a fusillade of Eco bolts struck their craft, causing him and Jinx, who was operating the forward point defense from the co-pilot seat, to nearly knock their heads together.

"Working on it," the blond haired elf said, before opening up with her quad laser cannons.

The unmanned combat drone was rather wily though, and it proved a difficult target to hit as it dipped and weaved back and forth, firing at its much larger and less maneuverable adversary. Tess did her best, though, and was not to be deterred by the enemy craft's superior performance. At last, she was able to trick it up, feinting like she was aiming upwards. The Death Bot went into a dive, only to find out that it had walked into a trap, and it took a barrage of crimson Eco bolts. The shots shredded its armor and vital systems, and it exploded in a ball of flames.

But it was merely one of hundreds, and Tess quickly found herself having to train her quad blasters upon another target, as another aerial drone came in at them, its own weapons blazing.

This massive dogfight had been going on for the better part of twenty minutes, ever since the elven strike force had arrived at the Death Bot factory. They had all been caught off guard by the response to their arrival, as while they had been expecting resistance, they had not anticipated this level of it. Nor, for that matter, had they expected the factory itself to be armored like a fortress. It verily bristled with anti aircraft turrets, and a large number of Hellcat gunships had been swatted out of the sky in the opening moments of the confrontation. Fortunately, Kage and Keira had been swift to begin taking out the gun emplacements.

However, whoever or whatever was in charge of the factory had then launched wave after wave of these nimble little combat drones, and while they weren't heavily armed or armored, their sheer numbers and maneuverability were making them royal pains in the neck.

"Torn," Kage shouted over the comm., his distorted voice quickly grabbing the commander's attention, "these things around going to tear us apart before we know it, you've got to get the assault force landed before that happens!"

"Tell me something I don't already know," the Revenant leader shot back, irritation and frustration both present in his voice.

"Keira thinks she's found a likely spot for a landing party," the Dark Eco demon continued, and Torn suddenly saw him appear off to the right of his craft. "Follow me and we'll guide you in."

Both elf and oni knew that it was not certain where this would place them inside of the factory, especially since they had no blueprints or anything else that they could use as a reference. Vin had been useful in guiding them here, but the construct had been unable to obtain any floor plans or maps of the factory itself. Hopefully, he would be able to do that once he got inside.

Still, even that uncertainty was better that staying out here and trying to hold off the endless waves of enemy fighters that kept getting thrown at them.

Barking out an order of the rest of the group to follow him, Torn yanked hard on the control stick, pivoting about until he got a glimpse of Kage flying away from them at top speed. The grizzled commander then gunned the throttle on his craft, causing the afterburners to kick in and pushing him back against his seat as the Hellcat shot forward.

One of the Death Bot drones came zooming in, its twin blasters raking across the front of Torn's craft. But, even before Jinx could get the point defense turrets properly oriented, Kage had pivoted around and let loose a familiar blast of Dark Eco lightning. The bolts of electricity wrapped around the enemy ship, eating through it before causing it to explode.

It took them about thirty seconds of frantic flying and fighting to get to where they were going, which would turn out to be a hangar. It was the first break they'd had, and Torn was grateful that Keira's sharp eyes had spotted it. The manner in which it was placed within the factory would give their Hellcats and the assault team some much needed cover, and since these enemy drones did not appear capable of hovering, would make it nearly suicidal for them to try and come in to say hello again.

Down below, he could see Keira floating in the air, her shimmering wings acting like a beacon to the elven ships, guiding the rest of the group in. Well aware of just how many aerial drones were trying to turn them into smears on the ground, Torn found himself having to make a very difficult call. If they slowed down too much, the Death Bots would sweep them from the sky, but if they went into the hanger too fast, they might very well turn into a burnt and charred crater on the inside walls. Complicating this was the fact that he had absolutely no idea how deep the hangar was.

While Torn had never exactly been someone who might be classified as the religious type, he certainly had a prayer in his mind as he dove into the hangar.

Fortunately, it was a rather deep place, apparently having room for dozens of the unmanned fighter craft that had made getting here hell for them. Still, at the speed he was moving, it still required every ounce of control he could muster from his gunship to get it to stop in time.

By some gods given miracle, the Hellcat cruisers were able to land without crashing, though a couple of suicidal craft had flown in after them, and the resulting explosions were making things a little hairy. Even worse was that more of them were doing quick gun runs upon the open hangar door, their blasters tearing through support struts and coming dangerously close to killing a few members of the assault team.

Kage and Keira both growled, but knew they couldn't do anything against the swarm of enemy fighters, especially from where they were. Their sole hope was Vin.

The oni and angel both reverted back to normal, and both Ascended Channelers made a break for it, heading for the deeper recesses of the hangar. Dangling from around Jak's waist was an armored container, within which was Vin's memory crystal. The container would protect the now very vulnerable construct in the event that his carrier took fire, but nobody wanted to see how effective it was against Eco bolts designed to take down gunships.

The dark Channeler looked about, his visor set to its electromagnetic viewing mode. The world appeared before him as a washed out, almost watery type, black and white. It was difficult to see normal things, like the assault team moving about. Indeed, the only clues he had that they were even there was that their equipment was slightly different from normal this time around, and gave off small electronic resonances that the visor was able to pick up.

However, what it did reveal to him was something that he'd been looking for from the get go. Up near the top of the hangar was a pedestal, and its electronic signature was a near perfect match to the one that Vin had given him before they left. Tapping into his superhuman abilities, and well aware that the enemy was still shooting at them, the dark elf jumped up, planting his feet into a support pillar, and then using that to push off towards the pedestal.

Landing upon the catwalk, the Ascended Channeler rushed forward, stumbling slightly as an explosion was touched off by another drone flying into the hangar in an attempt to take out the landing party. He reached his goal a moment later, and looking down, sighed in relief as he realized there was indeed a slot for Vin's memory crystal to be slid into. Knowing every second counted, Jak quickly reached down and withdrew the crystal from its container, before sliding it in.

Not two seconds after he did so, the hangar doors began to close, sealing them off from the outside world and the danger of the enemy attack craft.

"That was closer than I would have preferred," the dark elf muttered to himself, leaning back against a nearby column and switching his visor back to its normal viewing mode.

'**_Tell me something I don't already know,' _**Kage grumbled from within his mind, **_'I think we lost a dozen ships trying to get into this place.'_**

_Then let's make certain that their sacrifice was worth it,' _his host responded soberly, before looking back to the pedestal that he'd put Vin into.

The AI gazed about; looking for a module or something similar that would be likely to hold the blueprints.

A construct's vision was a strange thing to describe, they saw in code, but it was not exactly a bunch of ones and zeros. Instead, it was more like flashing symbols of different colors that came together and formed images and the like, which often gave their world a look that was somewhere between a downtown region full of holographic images and a child's computer game. The images in many ways denoted the purpose of the object, or in his own case, what he was like. This was reflected in his crystalloid appearance, full of sharp angles and facets, and having a bluish tinge. It was neat, orderly, predictable, just how he liked things to be.

He found what he was looking for, skillfully overcoming the module's defenses and retrieving what he wanted. After that, he focused his attention back to the dark elf who was waiting for a reply. A small hologram of the construct appeared in the pedestal, this one much like how he had appeared in life.

"Well?" Jak inquired, looking down at the AI.

"Very interesting…" Vin muttered to himself, before looking up at the dark elf. "The layout of the factory is all here," he said, before tapping two fingers to his forehead, and a moment later, chatter from down below indicated that the assault team had received the info. "The layout's weird though, I've never seen anything like it," the construct told him.

Jak noticed the factory layout as it appeared on his HUD, and a frown crept over his face. There were elements of the construction that appeared to be of elven design, but there were other parts that seemed… out of place, for lack of a better term. It made Jak uneasy, as he suddenly began to suspect that there might be a whole lot more to this than he had previously anticipated.

"What are your orders?" Torn asked him from down below, carefully staring about with his morph gun raised as if he expected an ambush any second.

"Vin, have you been able to locate any structural weaknesses?" Jak inquired, figuring the sooner they got this job over with, the better off they would all be.

"Just two," the hologram replied, holding up a pair of fingers, before tapping both of them to his forehead and causing a pair of flashing dots to appear on the map, one in the center of the factory, the other one more towards the bottom.

"These are the primary and backup power supplies for the repulsor lifts that are keeping this crate in the air. You take those out…" he trailed off.

"And gravity does the rest," Keira finished, tapping Masamune against the floor.

"Alright, move out!" Jak barked, drawing Kitetsu and motioning for the troopers down below to begin to mobilize.

"Sir, yes sir!" they shouted in unison, shouldering their weapons and beginning to move, allowing for Keira to get up on point.

Jak smiled grimly behind his helmet, before leaping down from where he was, landing next to his soul mate and falling into line beside her. Vin would remain where he was, as the AI would be of more use to them inside the factory's systems. Not exactly a norm for a mission like this, leaving him behind and vulnerable, but this wasn't exactly a normal mission either.

One look at the elven assault team could tell even a casual observer that. They were not clad in their normal blue armor, instead they wore matte black equipment with fully enclosed helmets. The gear's armor plates were also more subtle, less bulky than the traditional infantry armor. They provided less protection, but came with a very lucrative tradeoff: they doubled as environmental suits, something that was invaluable in a place such as this. After all, their enemies were mechanized constructs that would not be bothered by airborne toxins, biological or chemical, and Torn had insisted that they be capable of meeting the enemy on even footing.

Thus, one could imagine their surprise when they rounded the first bend and ran into a welcoming party; a welcoming party composed of Metal Heads.

They scarcely had time to react before they were being fired at. Indeed, one elf was taken down and another wounded before they were returning fire. It was a traditional Hora-quan group, with Grunts and Drones lunging forward to try and bring down the elves while the Centurions raised their energy shields and fired from behind them. There was also a pair of Crab Head commanders that were calling the shots, both figuratively and literally.

Jak and Keira found, to their immense surprise, that they were largely ignored by the Metal Heads. A few shots came at them, but most of their enemies chose instead to concentrate upon trying to mow down the assault teams. At first, both of them were confused by this, until the truth clicked in their minds. These Hora-quan were part of a suicide squad, they knew they weren't going to live through the battle. Their purpose was to whittle away at the weaker members of the group, to take down the normal soldiers until only the two of them were left.

The enemy was learning, and both of them were unnerved by it.

Another elf fell, a gurgle coming from behind his helmet as he hit the ground, his weapon clattering harmlessly to the floor. Complicating matters were that by this time, the Grunts and Drones were nearly upon them.

Once again, Jak decided that he would just have to have faith that the Precursor crafted armor that he was wearing was up to the task of stopping Eco bolts, and he stopped using his dark blade to block and reflect incoming blasts. He concentrated, felling the power flowing through him, and then he struck, focusing on the charging wave. The by now infamous dark mist flew from his outstretched hand, surging towards the enemy ranks and consuming them.

Howls of pain and agony came from within, only to be silenced a second later as the cloud of Dark Eco literally ate away at those unfortunate enough to find themselves inside of it. As always, it cleared to reveal nothing of the Metal Heads it had been unleashed upon. During that time period, though, the ranged fighters had been hard at work, a few shots slamming into Torn and Jinx, though their Katarn battle armor was thankfully capable of shielding them from it. However, their armor's gray plates were now streaked with carbon scoring, evidence of where the rounds had hit home.

Still, they were more than happy to return the favor to the enemy, and several Centurions fell as Torn fired his morph-gun, using its assault rifle mod to expertly place shots where their shields didn't cover them. Jinx and Tess, on the other hand, used their submachine guns to try and chew away at the Crab Heads. Dozens of blaster shots hit the two large Hora-quan moments later, rocking them backwards, impacting upon their armor, and eventually tearing through that to their flesh. With blood curling howls, the two commanders died, slumping down amongst the remains of their troops, their death spasms causing them to fire off a few more shots, though these connected harmlessly with the walls and floor of the hallway.

"So, looks like they've got all hands on deck," Torn muttered to himself, looking around to try and take a good guess of their causalities.

"All the more important that we take this place out, fast," Keira responded, going over to those who'd been hit.

Thankfully, the two who had been hit but not killed had faired better than she had believed. They'd likely have some nasty bruises from the impacts, but their suits had not been breached.

As she had said, though, speed was imperative, and they were quick to be on their way again.

It was not long before they came across a locked door, and Jak called for Vin to give them a hand.

"Just a moment," the construct's voice echoed out over the comm.

In the course of a millisecond, he hit the locking mechanism with almost fifty thousand possible code combinations. Whether Vin had gotten the right code, or he'd simply overloaded the mechanism, none of them would ever know. Regardless, he got them through. However, as he was doing that, the AI felt a sensation that would have felt kind of like someone or something brushing by him if he'd had a body. As it was, though, he felt a moment of confusion, followed by that sinking suspicion one gets when one is being watched.

Suddenly, Vin had a gut feeling that things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.

* * *

A few minutes had passed, and they were now deeper into the compound, getting close to where the primary repulsor controls were. They'd encountered more enemy resistance along the way, but careful planning, the fact that they were on guard now, and that Vin had managed to take control of a few of the security systems gave them an enormous edge, and they'd pressed on without any more causalities.

They were right outside another locked door, and while they waited, Vin decided that it was time for him to use the security cameras once again. With that thought, he was looking at the blueprints of the factory, and just as quickly, through the 'eyes' of the camera for the next room. A group of Metal Heads stood guard inside, waiting with eager anticipation for the enemy to reveal itself that they might take them down. The constructs clever eyes noticed something, though. Off in the corner of the room was a large power conduit, which the Crab Heads and Centurions were huddled close around.

An idea came to him, and if he'd still had fingers, the AI knew that he would have snapped them at that moment. He sent his consciousness out, seeking, searching for the controls to this particular conduit. In the time it would have taken an organic creature to blink, the construct had located it. A few more fractions of a second, and he'd smashed through the four security layers that had been guarding it, and he was in.

As Vin saw it, he hovered there, inside of the computer systems, looking at this thing. He had two options before him right now. First, he could shut the conduit down, taking down the power to that room and rendering the Metal Heads inside and in any surrounding rooms blind to what was going on, thus providing the assault team with a huge surprise when they stormed in. The other option was considerably less subtle and more brutal. He could overload the power going through the conduit. This would cause a devastating chain reaction of failures that would essentially turn it into a bomb.

He decided upon the latter. It was less refined, but the number of enemies hovering around it simply made it an irresistible target for the AI. A brief nanosecond of concentration, and the orders had been sent. Emergency protocols and overrides attempted to halt it, but Vin was able to squash those meager programs with scarcely any effort. This was cyberspace, and here, in this element, he was a god.

Thus, he was very much caught off guard with what he saw happen next.

The conduit exploded, taking out the Metal Head group. However, at the same time, he saw hidden vents suddenly open in the room that held the assault team, and a visible, gas-like substance began to pour out of them.

Somebody, Jinx by the sound of it, got a whiff of the stuff, and fell to his knees, coughing and gasping.

"Nerve gas! Seal your suits!" he screamed into his comm. between his hacking, and Vin could hear a hissing sound as everyone did just that.

"You alright, buddy?" Torn asked, scrambling over to his squad mate and trying to make certain that he was alright.

"I've had better days," the pyromaniac grumbled, still coughing his lungs out, "just glad that I only got a bit of the stuff."

"You and me both," the Revenant commander growled. "Vin, what the hell is going on?"

"Give me a second, I'm scanning through this computer code here," the construct responded.

There! Vin stopped abruptly, looking at one line of code that stood out from the rest. It had been added recently, just a few minutes prior, one that would activate the release of the nerve gas if the power conduit in the other room was shut down or destroyed. A computer loaded booby trap, and the AI had fallen for it. Vin cursed himself for his carelessness, how could he not have seen this coming? Furthermore, how come he hadn't spotted this? Then he realized it had been because the command was buried under so many lines of normal operating codes. That worried him. The only other thing that he knew of that could move so quickly and efficiently as to throw this in like that was…

Pain suddenly shot through him, agony unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Instantly, he threw out a self diagnostic subroutine. The check completed itself almost as soon as it had been initiated, and then Vin discovered something that would have made his blood run cold, if he'd still had blood. He'd been infected with a virus of unknown classification and origin, and it was attempting to destroy his programming. Quickly, he diverted every available counter measure he had to crush it, which for an AI, was something akin to using a fifty pound sledgehammer to squash a fly. Though the living definition of overkill, Vin wasn't about to take any chances with something like that.

'Panting' for lack of a better term, he sensed about, trying to discover what it was that had hit him.

_Not bad… for a construct of the primitives…_

The voice, which was actually something like a telepathic communication, rather than a verbal comment, came from behind Vin, and he spun about to face it. What he saw took his breath away.

Hovering before him was something that almost looked like a swarming cloud of data. It was silver in color, and after a second, it formed into a roughly humanoid shape, though the region around where the head would have been was an overhanging region, almost like a cowl. Vin realized that this was the other presence he had felt, and he was looking at the egoscopic manifestation of the other AI. The enemy construct gave off an 'aura' for lack of a better term that was very much like what he had felt when he'd unlocked that first door. In that moment, Vin cursed himself for a fool, realizing that this enemy AI had been watching him since he'd entered the system, and had no doubt been getting a good look at how he operated.

A bright bit of crimson light gathered in front of the enemy construct, and Vin's eyes widened as he realized it was launching another viral attack at him. Quickly, just as the cloaked figure fired his attack, Vin created a firewall program, raising it up around himself. The virus hit the other program, and was destroyed before it could penetrate. Thinking quickly, he created a viral algorism of his own, and as soon as the firewall had dissipated, he launched it.

The enemy construct, caught off guard by this suddenly aggressive move, did not have enough time to raise his own defenses before the attack hit. It fell in upon itself, its code boiling around like a storm cloud, and a growl of pain coming from within it as he fought with the rogue programming that was attempting to erase him from existence.

However, he, like Vin, could not be overcome by any one viral attack, and he quickly crushed it.

_Impressive… most impressive…_ it responded as it reformed, a genuine tone of respect in its voice. _I think I've learned all I need to know for now, construct. We'll meet again soon, and I, Grendel, will see how well you can keep up with a construct of the Ancients. _

With that ominous message, Grendel retreated, the image shattering into a flurry of code and fading back into the blur of the computer systems. Vin took a moment to try and collect himself, his thoughts drifting over what had just occurred, and what doubtlessly would as they drew closer to the heart of this plant.

"Vin, you okay?" Jak inquired suddenly, wondering why it had been so long, compared to normal at least, since the construct had contacted them.

"I think we've got a bit of a problem here," he muttered, his voice having that old quality of uneasiness that was his trademark in life.

"What do you mean?" Torn inquired, wanting to know of any complications that could jeopardize the mission and those involved.

"There's something else in this system," he told them, all the while keeping his defense systems on their highest alert setting, just in case Grendel wanted a round two. "It's what caused that nerve gas to get dumped on us."

"What is it?" Keira inquired, puzzled at what might give him reason to pause.

"There's another AI construct in here with me," he told them, pausing again to allow their minds to comprehend what he just said. "Furthermore, I think it's Precursian in origin."

"Wait a minute," Torn inquired, raising a hand up despite the fact that it didn't serve much of a purpose in addressing Vin, "you mean to tell me that the thing in charge of this facility, is a Fallen Precursor artificial intelligence?"

"That's what it claimed to be," Vin responded in a matter of fact tone. "It got the jump on me and hit me with a virus, and then it left. I don't know where it is in the system now, but I got a really bad feeling that it's still watching us somehow."

'**_All the more reason for us to be careful,'_** Kage murmured, scratching his chin from the inside of Jak's mind. **_'We're on this thing's turf, and it would be foolish to assume that it didn't have more booby traps like that one.'_**

'_You're right about that,' _Jak concurred, before giving voice to the oni's thoughts.

Thus, it was with that in mind that they proceeded forth in a far more careful manner than they had before.

Ironically, Vin thought that the paranoia that he'd been cursed with in life might actually have a positive application in this matter. After all, Grendel appeared to be fighting a shadow war with him, and the Precursian AI doubtlessly knew these systems like the back of his hand. Vin would have to be doubly on guard, or he could expect another sneak attack form behind, this one probably far more damaging.

Which reminded him that he needed to find out what parts of himself had been damaged, deleted, or corrupted by the attack. With a thought, he spun off another subroutine to try and assess the damage that had been done to him. It was nothing serious, what one might attribute to a flesh wound. Nonetheless, Vin knew that he had been lucky, and that he would have to be infinitely more cautious than he had been before.

* * *

Three minutes after Vin's initial contact with Grendel, he came across a situation that he felt might enable him to turn the tide upon the other construct.

It was another group of Metal Heads behind a door. This time though, it was not power conduits or things of that nature that got the AI's attention. Rather, there was a large ventilation shaft that blew air into the room. Pausing just long enough to give a command to the assault team that they should wait for him to work a little magic, Vin concentrated, before sending his consciousness out once again, looking for a module or something that he might be able to hijack.

The code module that he was looking for was rather well hidden, as it took the construct a couple of real world seconds to locate it, ages for a entity that dealt in time units such a nanoseconds and the like. After smashing its defenses, the AI then scanned through the code until he found what he was looking for. After pausing to make certain that no traps had been laid within this one, he made a few minor binary changes to it, a sensation he could only describe as grim elation going through him as he pulled his trap off.

The only thing that the Hora-quan back in the room were aware of was the fact that the ventilation fan suddenly began to turn the other way, and the air as a result was literally sucked from the room. Now, seeing as how the Metal Heads lacked any form of life support, they immediately began to gasp for the life giving oxygen that was no longer present within the room.

Within two minutes, they were all dead, their bodies upon the floor and the elven assault team tramping over them without even having to fire a shot.

Vin, still feeling pretty good about what he'd just done, suddenly sensed that Grendel was about again, and he instinctively threw up a few firewalls around himself, while retreating inside of them. Much to his surprise, no attack came, instead, he simply felt the other construct staring at him.

_Not bad at all… _Grendel said abruptly, his tone quiet, almost as if he'd been thinking out loud.

As quickly as he had appeared, the Precursian AI vanished. Vin hesitantly lowered his defenses, just in case this might be a ruse designed to lure him into a false sense of security. He wasn't really certain why Grendel seemed to be avoiding a direct confrontation with him, but he couldn't exactly say he was thrilled at the notion that he would eventually have to battle the other construct. It was something he'd never done before, and truthfully, the AI did not know exactly how well he would be able to stand up to one of his own kind. On the other hand, every moment between now and that inevitable battle meant one more moment that Grendel would have to observe his foe and get an idea of how to deal with him.

Either way, Vin knew that if he failed, there was a good chance the mission would fail as well. With Jak and Keira along, there was a good chance that they might still be able to take this floating factory down, however, he was certain that Grendel could find the means to delay them from returning to the hangar bay until this factory turned itself into a large crater.

* * *

They'd reached the primary controls for the repulsor lifts, and were now in the process of setting the demo charges. As per usual with someone like Jinx on the case, the assault team was operating on the 'P for Plenty' motto, and they were laying down approximately twice what would be necessary to destroy the place, just in case there was something they hadn't seen.

What surprised Vin the most was that Grendel was nowhere to be found. He'd seen neither hide nor hair of the other construct, and that was making him nervous. Given the guerilla styled tactics that the Precursian AI seemed to be engaging in at the moment, Vin had no doubt that he was planning something devious.

However, despite that caution, he was still surprised when the attack came. A coolant control valve suddenly exploded, showering three members of the strike team with its contents. Two were fully enveloped, but one of them managed to twist out of the way in time. That elf cried out as the deadly chill swept through his body, freezing armor and flesh alike, and Vin could hear his horrified gasping as his arm became little more than a block of ice. He had fared better than his two comrades, whose bodies were now frozen to the floor.

At the same time, a power conduit on the other side of the room exploded, and the ensuing shrapnel cutting down two more, and wounding another pair of soldiers, their blood spreading across the floor like a crimson oil slick.

Though he was caught with his proverbial pants down, Vin did react fast enough to stop a far greater catastrophe from taking place. Realizing the danger that the active demo charges presented, he remotely deactivated them, lest a stray attack or something like that take them out, and kill everyone in the room, which he suspected was Grendel's intention.

As a matter of fact, he was even able to turn the tables upon the other construct. Quickly focusing, he located the systems that the other AI was using to move about, and with a thought, set off a careful chain reaction of power overloads and the like that physically destroyed the circuitry, with the exception of a single route, the one that he'd taken to get in here. This effectively trapped the Precursian construct in the immediate area. The only way out was through Vin, and both of them knew it. This would also force the confrontation that Vin was eager to get out of the way, because even if he chose to wait and remain to skulk in the shadows, Grendel realized that it would give the elves enough time to destroy the factory, which would effectively make anything else a moot point.

The alien construct once again materialized before Vin, his arms crossed and his head bowed, almost giving him the impression of a monk at prayer.

_So it at last comes to this. _He stated calmly, to which his counterpart merely nodded.

For a nanosecond, they stared, before Vin made the first move. A thought caused a quartet of virus to be created and expelled from his consciousness. Once again, though, Grendel's firewall capabilities proved to be more than capable of thwarting the malignant programs, and his defenses ripped them apart. However, rather than dissipating, the elven construct watched as the hooded figure absorbed them into himself. For a moment, he was confused, until he realized what was happening: Grendel was copying the malignant codes, studying them and storing them away for future use. He had literally dissected the attack, and it now resided within his own memory, something for him to use at a later date.

The split second of distraction that realization provided nearly proved to be a second death for Vin, as Grendel launched a vicious counter attack, a multitude of attack protocols coming in at every imaginable angle. Vin raised a shield around himself, but as the first one hit, he realized his error as a tingling type sensation passed through him, and the attack reflected directly back towards its sender. He quickly dropped his shield and moved out of the way of the others, realizing that the Precursian AI was once again probing him, trying to find a weakness in his defenses, something that he could exploit to his best advantage.

Hoping that if nothing else, he might interrupt the other AI's scanning, Vin launched another virus at his adversary. This time, though, Grendel didn't even bother to raise a firewall to protect himself, instead, he once more collapsed inward upon himself, resembling a cloud of code and data again. As the attack drew near, he moved outward, opening up a hole in his center that the program went right through.

Grendel did not reform afterwards, but instead shot forward, streaking towards Vin. As he drew nearer to the elven AI, the other construct suddenly expanded and broke apart, swelling outwards and enveloping his foe. Vin scarcely had time to raise his defensive protocols before the barrage came. Viruses and malignant programs of ever variety he knew impacted upon his firewalls, causing them to 'shudder' under them. If sweat could have formed upon his crystalloid brow, it certainly would have at that particular moment. One by one, the firewalls overloaded and failed, as the sheer number of attacks that Grendel was unleashing destroyed them. Vin was running out of time and he knew it, he had to get out of this, for once his defenses failed, there would be nothing to stop the Precursian AI from deleting him from existence.

An idea came to mind, and not a moment too soon. As quickly as he could, Vin created every attack protocol and algorism that he could think of, surrounding himself with them. As his final firewall failed, blinking out, he shot forward, using the viral programs he'd created as a shield.

Almost too late, Grendel realized what the elven construct was attempting to do, and he made haste to try and get out of the way before they crossed, and he would up taking in all those rogue programs. While the AI held little doubt that he was fully capable of deleting even that many viruses before they could do permanent damage, such a delay would enable his adversary to get another chain of attack going, something he had no desire to experience. Unfortunately for him, though, was that while he was able to get out of the way of the overwhelming majority of the attacks, the ones on the fringes still clipped him, and he had to suppress a groan as he felt parts of his code become infected by the malignant programs. Retreating away from his opponent, he deleted them as swiftly as he could, firing a few of his own off in an attempt to buy himself some time.

It worked, and Vin found himself to busy deflecting and dodging the attacks to worry about countering. The result was that when both AI constructs were done, they simply stared at each other, once more waiting to see who would begin round two.

Vin was a little uneasy, as this battle was already proving to be as difficult as he feared it would. Furthermore, as each phase passed, with each attack he created and launched, Grendel learned more and more about him and his patterns. The only solution that he could honestly think of at the moment was that he was going to have to get significantly more unorthodox in his patterns of attack and defense. He was going to have to go for something bolder and more risky.

Grendel on the other hand, looked on with confidence. This was not his first time facing an enemy construct. Indeed, during the Kinslayer War, he'd deleted nearly half a dozen Precursor AIs. However, he had to admit, for something born of a race that was so far behind his own creators, this other construct, Vin, if he'd heard correctly, was a crafty and cunning adversary. There was something about him that was also different, perhaps in his origins, or his memory nexus, but regardless, Grendel knew that this elven construct was unlike anything that he'd faced before, and thus, he'd have to be careful. One slipup could turn the tide, and make all of this work be in vain. He concluded that it would perhaps be best if he got this over with as quickly as he could, and thus, he shot forward, resembling a silvery comet as he rushed at Vin.

At the last possible second, he twisted, and as he trailed by his crystalloid opponent, a veritable swarm of viral programs flew off the tail he left in his wake, all of them rushing towards his foe. Some went straight at him, while others twisted and turned, moving about at seemingly random intervals in the hopes of confusing the other construct just long enough for one of them to hit him and do some damage.

Vin was just as fast on defense as Grendel was on offense, though, and he defeated every single attack, though he couldn't help but wonder if all of this was just a delaying tactic, something that the Precursian AI was using to keep him off balance long enough for him to whip out something particularly nasty. However, that train of thought brought an idea to his own mind, and he figured that if Grendel was planning something of that nature, then he'd better have a dastardly trick or two up his own sleeve. Two thoughts came to mind, both of which he decided to implement.

The first one could be implemented rather quickly, so he decided that it would be best for him to start on that one, and then use the time he bought himself to begin work on the second. A second later, two attacks streaked away from him, looking like crystal daggers. They homed in on Grendel, who abruptly pivoted about, expanding again as he caught the attacks, once more attempting to take them apart and analyze the attack patterns of his opponent. Too late, he realized his error, as he removed the outer layer of code around them, only to find that there was a secondary viral program contained within them. The red tinged burst of light entered into him, and promptly began to ravage his internal systems.

These viruses, he realized, were of a far more potent nature than the previous attacks that Vin had used upon him, and the damage was spreading fast. Being certain to keep a proverbial eye out for his adversary, he quickly loosed his defensive protocols upon the two viruses, hoping to contain them before any permanent harm was done. He succeeded, though he was partially distracted by the fact that Vin was continuing to rain attack down upon him.

_Clever move, Vin… _he muttered to himself, before launching another barrage of attacks at the elven construct.

Vin was able to raise some firewalls in order to protect himself, but Grendel noticed that they had come up almost too late to stop the rogue programs from entering him, and something about that bothered him. Vin had, up until this point, demonstrated that he was more than capable of keeping up with him, and this sudden slowdown unnerved him. He knew that the other AI was planning something, and it had to be something big by the way in which it was making his reactions sluggish.

That was all the more reason to finish his opponent off quickly, as far as he was concerned, and so great were the numbers of attack programs that he launched that the next few moments might have passed as either a computerized reenactment of the battle for Haven, or the finale of the celebration that occurred after said battle.

As the attacks began to smash through his defenses, Vin suddenly began to question whether or not what he was attempting to do was a very wise idea after all. Still, he was so far into what he was attempting to do that he wasn't truly certain that he could stop it even if he'd wanted to. He only prayed that he could hold out long enough, a few more moments, and then he'd be done.

Thus he decided that fleeing would be a very good idea t the moment. Lowering his defenses, he ducked out of sight, leaving a very puzzled Grendel in his wake. The way was now clear for the Precursian AI, but he did not wish to leave an enemy at his back, not after he had placed so much into this fight. This would end here and now, for better or for worse.

Thus, he let his consciousness spread out, seeking for a trace of his foe, wondering where he might have gotten off to, and for what purpose. After a couple of moments, he sensed something that he knew was Vin, but he was somewhat confused. It didn't feel quite the same as the AI he'd been battling and as he cautiously went out to face it, he remained on guard and wary of any tricks.

He found his target shortly thereafter, but as he went to pounce, he noticed that the other construct made no move to defend himself, or anything of that nature. He also seemed somewhat… diminished, for lack of a better term. It was then that Grendel realized what was happening. Vin had made a decoy copy of himself, something to try and throw him off the trail. Many of the constructs he'd battled before had tried such tactics, and Grendel prided himself on the fact that after the first time, he'd never fallen for the trick again.

Thus, he immediately raised his defenses around himself, and felt grim elation course though him as several viruses were destroyed an instant later. Spinning about, he spotted his true prey, and shot forward, flowing to and fro to try and throw off the aim of his opponent. It worked, and he once more enveloped Vin, before hammering the elven construct's defenses.

For a moment or two, this continued, and Grendel made certain to have a firewall of his own set up around his interior, as he wanted no repeats of what happened the last time he had tried this. He felt Vin's defenses beginning to buckle beneath the weight of his assault, and he knew that victory was at hand.

He was right, but the victory was not exactly has he had planned.

Pain suddenly coursed through him as a large number of viral attacks slammed into his exposed exterior. A screech of pain, distorted electronically, came from him, as he realized what had happened. The copy that Vin had crafted of himself was no mere dummy, but one that was actually capable of attacking and defending on its own. A moment of disbelief coursed through him. How had the other construct been able to do that? Not even he, with all of his impressive abilities, could copy so much data onto a clean template in the period of time that had been available to him.

A nanosecond after that, he felt the firewalls that Vin had set up fade, and the elven AI came on with a fury that Grendel had never before witnessed. In that instant, the Precursian construct knew that he was finished, that he had no hope of coming out of this one. However, he was like his makers, a proud and strong warrior. No pleading came from him as he reverted back to a more basic form, no begging for mercy. Instead, a grim measure of respect for Vin filled him, and he regretted only that he was now incapable of stopping the enemy assault team from accomplishing their goal.

The final moments of the construct's life were both quick and eternally long, as he felt himself being ripped away layer by layer, code by code. At the same time, he also felt the distinct sensation that he was being copied, and he realized that Vin was absorbing him, analyzing his data to get a first hand idea of how his kind operated… and of any knowledge that might have been held inside of himself.

After that, he knew a bright flash, and then nothing.

Vin panted and muttered something to himself as the fight ended and the other AI became one with himself. He then looked up and saw his copy coming towards him. Nodding slightly, the other version of himself shattered into a thousand crystal shards before coming back into the original.

He'd had no idea for how long he'd battled his foe, but he knew that the victory he'd achieved here had been a very important one. The data he'd just gathered would prove invaluable once he'd managed to crack the encryptions about it. However, he'd have to be careful, as he wouldn't put his foe beyond leaving a booby trap or something like that in his code in the even of being assimilated by another construct.

"Vin, you okay?" came a voice that he recognized as Jak's.

"I'm fine," he responded, already beginning to send his consciousness out, searching for modules and remote controls for the Death Bots he knew were here.

"What happened?" Keira asked.

"Me and the other AI just scrapped it out with each other," he told her.

"I take it you came out on top?" she returned, a bit of relief in her voice.

"Yeah, Grendel's gone," he replied. "With him out of the picture I think I'll be able to remotely control the battle droids here, and turn them on the Metal Heads."

"Leaving the way clear for us?" Torn concluded, and everyone could tell that he was smiling behind his helmet.

"Yep," Vin stated, though he was only half listening, as he believed he'd just found something very important.

"Then let's get moving," the Revenant leader said, reactivating the demo charges and moving on.

"You guys do that," Vin murmured, before sending everything he had out to try and break a very interesting lock.

He succeeded a moment later, and found himself gasping as he saw what was before him.

Grendel had been a busy little computer. Apparently, in an attempt to defend this station, he'd been fashioning a 'body' for himself. Vin could see the influence from the Hunter Killers in its design, but this one was far sleeker, more angular, and it seemed to bear influence from his Precursor makers as well. All in all, it looked like a cross between a Viper and a Precursor Warrior. What stood out the most, however, was four protrusions off of the back, which almost resembled skeletal bat wings. They appeared to be engines of some nature, and he realized that this one might have actually been capable of permanent flight. Its onboard weapon systems were far superior to the Hunter Killers, as well, and he noticed that unlike their bulky guns, the Eco weapons of this one were cunningly concealed inside its sleek lines. There was one exception to this, though, and that was what appeared to be its melee weapon. It was a large halberd, held in the right hand, composed of some foreign material that the AI sensed was similar, though not quite on the same quality level, as the substance that made up Jak and Keira's armor.

It wasn't completely finished, however, as it didn't have any higher level programming or a place for the AI to have his memory chip inserted. But that was so much the better as far as Vin was concerned, as it meant he could customize it completely to his liking. He could still send it out after the assault team though, as after the traps Grendel had laid for them, they would probably welcome the extra firepower.

He opened up a comm. channel to them, and let them know of the help that was coming their way, as he didn't want this thing getting destroyed by the pair of Ascended Channelers because they got surprised by it.

* * *

It was some time later, and the factory was merely a bad memory. After Grendel's defeat, the mission had gone smoothly, and no further injuries had been sustained by the team. However, one thing was still on Vin's mind, and had been bothering him ever since he'd bested his opponent. Before he'd destroyed him, Grendel had reverted back to a base form, and it was the nature of that form that puzzled him.

Why in the name of the Ancients had Grendel taken the form of an ottsel?


	28. A Moment of Understanding

Hello everyone, it's been quite a while. First off, I want to thank all of you for the support you gave, it meant quite a bit to me. I'm sure they meant a lot to Adam as well.

Second, I wish to apologize for the delay over here. FSU's been hell, and I've had trouble trying to nail things down for this story. One problem being I made the transfer student mistake of sighing up for 18 hours worth of classes. I fear that this chapter is not very good as a result of my writers block.

As always, my thanks go out to those of you who read this story and put up with my frequent delays of late. I hope that this sort of thing does not continue to be a problem, I think I know what to do after this chapter, and then things should start boiling down to the final confrontation fairly rapidly, though I think I might have to tone down my ambitious final battle idea to about half what I originally intended.

That said, and lawyers, as usual I own jack squat, I hope you enjoy this chapter, delayed and dismal though it may be…

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* * *

A Moment of Understanding

Jak leaned back against the hull of the drop ship, his mind adrift over all the things that had been happening lately, and the fact that it looked as if he might finally be able to just slow down, take a breather, and catch a good night of uninterrupted sleep.

However, that was entirely dependant upon how observant Count Veger and his cronies were. He was still exiled on pain of death, and while he was certain that Ashelin and her followers would go out of their way to try and keep him hidden, deep down, the dark elf knew it would only be a matter of time before Veger and the rest of the council managed to put two and two together. From there, what would happen would be anyone's guess.

'**_Let the coward come!' _**Kage snarled abruptly, his eyes glowing with a fury Jak had not seen since he'd been about to challenge Kor. **_'It will be my pleasure to remind him of what happened out in the desert!'_**

'_Easy, Kage, we don't want to stir up trouble right now,' _Jak responded with a shake of his head. _'The Freedom League and the rest of the military have been through enough, they need a chance to rest… and to prepare.'_

'**_You believe it will come to something as drastic as that?' _**the oni replied, a genuine tone of surprise in his voice.

'_Without a doubt,' _Jak told his alter ego. _'People like Veger won't back down without a fight, they're afraid to lose their power. The same applies to any lackeys that they might have. Mark my words, before this is over, there will be a change in power, and it will probably have to be done by force.'_

Kage remained silent, a frown upon his face. Jak could hardly blame him. Much as the Dark Eco demon's sense of honor demanded that Veger be repaid for his treachery, what Jak spoke of did not bode well with him. Still, they would both pray that it did not come to that.

A sudden deceleration in the drop ship that they were on told him that they were approaching the city. Silently, the dark elf looked over to where Torn was, and nodded in a somber manner. A thought was all it took, and he suddenly faded into a blur, before moving up towards the cockpit of the craft. The grey armored warrior hated it, hated the fact that their leader, the hero that had returned to save their tails when by all rights he could have remained out in the desert and left the city to rot, had to skulk about like a thief in the darkness. Not bothering to hide the snarl of rage on his face, Torn thought about Veger, his face smug as he had sentenced his comrade to the unmerciful sands of the Wasteland.

He thought of all the people that had died, needlessly, because Veger fancied himself a more competent commander than all the people in the Freedom League, never mind the fact that he had never seen action before. The hardened Revenant trooper knew that it would come to bloodshed more than likely. However, unlike Jak and Kage, he relished the thought. It would be his chance to avenge the fallen, and to put that arrogant and pathetic excuse of a man in his proper place.

Angrily, he grabbed his helmet and slipped it back on. After all, they were returning home to a triumphant city that finally had a reason to celebrate after all these months. Their home had been won back from the grips of their foes, and while much would have to be done to rebuild what had been lost, they had still been victorious. It would not do for one of the heroes of the day to be frowning such as that. Better that they stare at his helmet, rather than the scowl he knew he would be unable to wipe from his face.

The drop ship began to move down, its vertical thrusters gently lowering it towards the pavement in the heart of the residential sector. The back hatch opened, spilling the lights of the city into the rear of the craft.

Darkness had long since fallen, but the fireworks lighting up the sky and the other celebratory lights made it seem as though it was daytime. The roar that met their ears was nearly deafening, as a crowd of people, hundreds of thousands strong and composed of soldiers and civilians alike met their returning warriors. Turning slightly, the grizzled commander saw Jak hunkered down in the corner of the ship that was farthest from the entrance, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as he possibly could.

With a disgusted sigh, the elite trooper disembarked, putting himself back on terra firma for the first time in more than twelve hours. As he and the rest of the Revenants got of the ship, it rose back up into the air, before streaking off in the direction of the current military headquarters.

* * *

The hangar that the drop ship arrived in was dark; the lights in it either turned down low or turned off altogether. It was so much the better as far as Jak was concerned, for it would enable him to be that much stealthier in his attempts to get to Ashelin. The Governess of Haven City was eager to meet with her cousin in a face to face manner, but they had to be careful, as unfriendly eyes were everywhere. That was what Torn had told him, and the dark elf had little doubt that it was true. After all, Veger knew that he was still alive, and it would not have surprised him in the least for the council leader to have placed spies among the soldiers of the Freedom League, waiting to see if she would attempt to make contact with him. 

His chameleon ability turned on, he slunk out of the back of the craft, slowly moving about, his visor set to heat mode.

Using this method, he was able to slowly make his way towards his cousin's private chambers. Not surprisingly, there was a pair of black armored elites standing by the entrance to the war room. These guards were ex-Underground for the most part, and almost fanatically loyal to their leader. Still, he couldn't be too careful, and he carefully approached, remaining cloaked just in case this should prove to be some kind of elaborate trap.

However, he could not have been more surprised when one of them looked his way, and he noticed a slightly reddish tinge to this visor. With a silent oath, the dark elf realized that the guard was also equipped with thermal viewing gear, and a thousand possible outcomes whirled through his mind as the man snapped his rifle up.

However, as if by some heaven sent miracle, the man did not fire. Instead, he and his comrade, who was by now alerted to the fact that they were not alone, merely kept their guns pointed at him, as if waiting for him to make the first move. At last, though, one of them spoke.

"Colonel, is that you?" the first trooper inquired, keeping his rifle keeping a steady bead on Jak.

A flood of relief swept over the Ascended Channeler, and he slowly rose, before taking a hesitant step towards the guard.

"At ease, soldier," he said, his voice picking up the hardened edge he'd noticed most ranking officers had, de-cloaking himself at the same time.

The two men relaxed and saluted as he drew near, before turning and knocking upon the door they were guarding.

"An old friend to see you, ma'am," one of them said, his tone hushed.

A moment later, the door opened, and Jak quickly slipped inside. What met his eyes was surprising to both him and Kage.

Ashelin stood with her back to a massive computer system, showing detailed views of every area of the city. Near her were no less than twenty of the black armored soldiers that had been guarding the door. Given that the enemy appeared to have been routed completely and utterly, and that no subsequent assaults had been made when an attack had been launched on the Death Bot assembly plant, Jak was confused about why his cousin would have so much protection. After all, she was a hardened warrior, and he believed that she would have little to fear as far as a Cloaker sneaking in and trying to take her out.

That left only one logical conclusion: if there was an attempt on her life, she was expecting an assassin of more elven nature.

"Tight security," the dark elf remarked, putting his thoughts into words.

"Necessary, unfortunately," Ashelin returned as she approached him, and then threw her arms around him. "Good to see you in person again, cousin."

"I have you to thank for that," Jak remarked as he removed his helmet, a crooked smile upon his face.

"Sig was the one who gave me the homing beacon, so thank him," she responded, matching his smile. "Oh, by the way, interesting job with your hair."

"Keira thought so as well," the Ascended Channeler responded, remembering her reaction to the thick braids, a faraway look in his eyes, before bringing himself back to the present. "So what's been going on over here since I've been away?"

"It's a long story." Ashelin said, a bitter frown coming over her face as she crossed her arms.

* * *

"He's really done all that?" Jak said, an incredulous look upon his face and in his voice. 

"Yep," Ashelin replied with a slight nod, "and I have a feeling that things are only going to get worse."

A frown came over the dark elf's visage, and he pondered what might happen. Apparently, Veger and the rest of the council had become alarmed when Ashelin had stated that she would be taking direct control of the military in light of General Toshiro's death. They'd accused her of overstepping her bounds, and attempted to assume control themselves, but she hadn't backed down. Words had been thrown and sabers rattled, but neither side had truly done anything drastic though. However, the Haven City Council, much to their dismay, hadn't been able to stop her, she had simply been too popular among the majority of the troops. However, Veger and his cronies still had about three thousand or so members of the Freedom League that were in their camp, so to speak. They were all on edge, each expecting the other side to do something drastic.

Both sides had temporarily put aside their difference in light of liberating Haven, but deep down, Jak had a feeling that within two days time things would be back to the way that they were. Possibly less, depending on how quickly Veger found out about Jak's return.

The sound of the main door opening caused them to both look around. Their voices upbeat and jovial, Samos, Keira, Tess (with Daxter riding upon her shoulder), Torn and the rest of the Revenants walked in. Following them was a certain blind seer that had recently been reunited with her familiar.

"Jak, my boy!" Samos exclaimed, before embracing the Ascended Channeler's midsection in a tight hug.

A surprised look came over the dark elf's face, as he had not expected this to come from the usually gruff sage. Still, he had just returned to this city after a noticeable absence, so perhaps some long dormant paternal feelings had finally come to the surface.

"Good to see you again, Samos," he replied.

"You guys can go on with your happy little reunion, but the rest of the squads and myself need to have a talk with our Governess," Torn said as he pushed by them. "So if you'll excuse us."

As they went off to the far side of the room, Jak noticed that his soul mate and her adoptive father were engaged in a long awaited embrace. He was happy to see them together again, and he could only imagine what kind of nerve wracking ordeal the old man must have gone through when he learned what a disaster the initial counter attacks into the West Side, Harbor, and Industrial Districts had been.

However, a frown came over the green elf's face as he stared into her eyes, noticing the strange glow from where her pupils should have been. Somberly, he lowered his head, apparently figuring out what was going to happen over the next few minutes.

"Why?" the girl asked, her tone gentle, not hostile at all. "Why didn't you tell me?"

For some moments, Samos remained silent, his head bowed, his breathing deep, wondering how in the world he was going to bring this out, how he would explain himself to his adoptive daughter. Finally, he settled on just telling her the truth.

"Fear, Keira, fear," he stated, causing her to cock an eyebrow at him, completely lost by what he was saying. "I was afraid of losing you…"

She nodded silently, and then got down on a knee, looking her father in the eye.

"Please," she asked, "tell me what you know…"

She was desperate to know something, anything about her past. It was that instinctive drive to know ones origins, where one had come from. She'd always known that Samos had never been her real father, not in a biological sense at least. Still, it was a question that she needed to have answered.

A bitter feeling went through Samos, and he felt a bit of anger towards himself. This was something he should have done months ago. Tarath had told him at the Metal Head Nest that she'd had the right to know the truth of her heritage. He should have told her then. Fear had held him back, fear of no longer being her beloved father. It seemed silly, especially in light of all that had happened lately. The disastrous counter attack had taught him that, and in the weeks that had followed, he had agonized over the fact that Keira might very well die out there, perish without ever knowing the truth. Thus, he steeled himself, and prepared to pass on what he knew.

* * *

It had occurred years ago, just a few months after he and Jak had been transported back through the Rift, when he was still a much younger sage. He was still a little confused about all that was supposed to be going on, but he knew the importance that his little charge would be to the world. There were days when he wondered if the lad truly knew how many lives would depend upon his abilities, and if he could imagine, in his darkest nightmares, how much he would have to suffer for the sake of the world. 

The day had been bright and sunny, a seemingly macabre irony given what would happen in a few minutes. He'd been in the village, and there had suddenly come a great commotion. Dashing out of his hut, he'd found that a number of people had gathered in the center of the little community, surrounding a flut-flut. On the bird like creature was a middle aged elf, who looked tired and haggard as could be. In one arm he held the reigns of his mount, while in the other was something the Sage couldn't quite make out at the moment.

Moving closer, he saw that it was a child, a girl. Her aqua colored hair was tangled and matter with bits of soot, and she looked around with fearful eyes at these new people.

"Who are you?" the mayor asked, weary of the stranger.

"My apologies, sir," he said with as much of a bow as he could manage from his current predicament, "my name is Rainer, and I come from the fortress of Ajare."

"What brings you to these parts?" Samos spoke up, noticing the claw marks on his arm, claw marks that looked eerily familiar.

"My home has fallen, attacked by some manner of demon we have never before seen," the rider said, a disgusted sigh coming from him. "Might I leave my charge with you?" he asked. "I must return and see if anyone else has survived."

"You should rest first, and have that wound seen too," Samos said, gesturing to the claw marks with his staff.

For the first time, the man seemed to notice the green color of the elf's skin. His eyes widened, and dumbly, he nodded his head.

"My house is this way," he said, and gestured with his staff.

* * *

The old elf frowned as he looked over at them. Both the girl, Keira, and her protector were asleep at the moment. Rainer was going to leave as soon as he woke up, as he was desperate to return back to the ruins of the place he came from, desperate to know if his lord and lady had survived. He'd seen the determination in his eyes, known that it would have been futile to try to dissuade him. 

The Hora-quan never left any survivors when they attacked.

He just hoped that that crushing reality, when it finally hit, didn't cause him to do something stupid.

He looked over to the girl again. She trembled in her sleep, occasionally thrashing about and moaning. He'd been tempted to go over and try to comfort her, but he honestly hadn't a clue on how to do it. Parenting wasn't something that he was familiar with, as he had learned with young Jak. That was the reason that he'd turned him over to another person, rather than attempting to raise him on his own.

She yelped in her sleep again, and he looked up to the heavens, thought of asking of assistance or wondering 'why me' crossing through his mind. Slowly, he walked over to where she was, and then sat down next to her. Then he reached out, and began to stroke her head. She burrowed against it, as if it was the one comforting thing that was keeping her from slipping into oblivion.

He would stay like that throughout the night, her clutching to him, as if he was the answer to his prayers.

* * *

"Rainer left the next day, but he never came back, guess the Metal Heads must have hung around and waited to see if anyone would return," Samos said with a sigh. He looked up at Keira. "From the moment he described the attack, I knew what you were. The Hora-quan would only have mustered that many of their forces to attack a fortification with a Channeler in it. I asked him if there was anything special about you, just to be sure, and he confirmed my suspicions." 

"Why didn't you tell him about the Metal Heads?" Keira inquired, still trying to understand all that she'd been told.

"It would have been rather awkward, seeing as how no one else knew of their existence, and I didn't want to risk somehow screwing things up, if you know what I mean," her father responded, sounding utterly helpless. "I was in the past, every action I took, I was somehow fearful might upset the future." He paused, taking a deep breath, before looking Keira in the eyes. "After a few weeks passed with no sign of Rainer coming back, I figured he wasn't going to. I was planning to hand you over to someone else… but I guess you kind of grew on me." He looked down at the ground, suddenly looking older and more diminutive than he ever seemed to before. "I'm sorry, Keira, I really am. I should have told you…"

"It's okay, daddy," she said, getting down on her knees and hugging the old elf close. "You'll always be my father."

"You don't know how good it is to hear that," Samos said, his voice cracking as a tear came from his closed eyes.

Jak watched as they held each other close, a faint smile on his face. Keira's story, like his own, seemed to have come full circle now. It was striking similar his life, and he wondered, deep down, if that was something that had caused them to be close to one another was because they had been through similar ordeals. He really didn't care, though. They were together, all of them now. He would cherish what time they had, as he couldn't' be certain whether they would survive what was coming. They had sent their response to Kerrog's ultimatum, and now the die had been cast.

He wasn't certain whether the future held victory or defeat, only that it held death, and lots of it.

* * *

Some time had passed, and the gang was spread out all over the room now. Torn and Ashelin, along with the remainder of the Revenants, were clustered around the computers, trying to devise a defense strategy. Jak and Keira, meanwhile, were back in one of the corners, just talking to each other. Samos and Onin meditated in the center of the room, their breathing deep and even as they tried to center themselves. 

There came the sound of a door opening and several eyes drifted in its direction, wondering who it could be.

It was Count Veger, his usual swagger about himself and the air around him seeming to radiate his ego. He walked up towards where Torn was with a smile that did not reach his eyes upon his face.

"The Council wishes to congratulate you on your victory, Commander Torn," the chairman said, his voice cool and collected. "You've done an invaluable service to the city of Haven, and you've ensured our security for the future." He paused, his grin growing into a lopsided smirk as he turned to face Ashelin. "In light of this, the Council expects you to return control of the army over to us, so that we can use them to assist in the rebuilding of our glorious metropolis."

"You did receive the report I gave you the other day, correct?" the daughter of Praxis inquired, a scowl on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"We did," Veger returned, matching her posture, but maintaining that smug look.

"Then you and the rest of the Council are aware that we are going to be under attack from another source in the very near future? Or did you forget to read the pages about the Fallen Precursors?" she growled, not bothering to hide her disdain of this elf in front of her.

"We believe that we can handle it from here, thank you," the count said, looking down at some of his fingernails and rubbing them along his jacket. "After all, your report said that there would be no more than seven thousand of them, correct? Even with our recent losses, we outnumber them more than fifty to one."

Rage filled one person that was present, as he realized that history was about to repeat itself. The gods as his witnesses, he would not allow for his people to be slaughtered again due to the arrogance and incompetence of one man.

"Have you ever seen a Precursor in battle, Veger?" Jak said, stepping out of the shadows and walking towards the arrogant noble, taking grim delight as he watched his face become a study in shock.

"You!" he spat, his hands becoming fists, all of his cool and calm gone in light of realizing that the dark elf had returned, apparently to deliberately challenge him at this point. "You've got a lot of nerve…"

"I told you that the Wasteland wouldn't kill me, Veger, you should have realized that after we met the first time," the Ascended Channeler remarked, wanting to smirk, but holding back as the gravity of the situation didn't warrant it. "Now, before you lose control of your bladder," a couple of snickers and hastily coughing laughs came from the Revenants upon hearing this, "would you please answer my question: have you ever seen a Precursor fight?"

"I cannot say I have ever had the honor or the pleasure, demon," he snarled, his eyes narrowing.

"Well I have," Jak fired back, secure in the fact that he had everyone's attention, "I've met with them, spared with a few of their finest, and even gotten a couple of gifts from them," he gestured to the armor that was on his body. "Let me tell you, as the voice of experience in this room: seven thousand warriors are all the Fallen Ones would need to take this city. Hell, they could probably give you a good run with even half that number."

"We have tanks and gunships that…"

"A Precursor Juggernaut would smash them like they were toys, Veger, toys!" the dark elf growled, baring his teeth and clenching his fists. "They're centuries ahead of us in technology! Their armor and weapons would rip the Freedom League apart so quickly you wouldn't be able to believe it! And need I remind you of their Eco powers? They are living weapons!"

"So what would you suggest that we do?" Veger inquired with a sneer of contempt.

"I would suggest that you leave military matters in the hands of someone who actually knows what they are doing!" Jak growled, his slitted eyes narrowing and flashing purple.

"I think you should remember that you're still exiled on pain of death, monster!" the councilman replied, stung by this remark.

"No, he's not," Ashelin said suddenly, her voice quiet, "I have granted him a full vindication for whatever 'acts' you believe that he committed in defense of this city."

"You don't have the authority to do that!" the count all but roared, going wide eyed at what he had just heard. "The Haven City Council…"

"Is no longer in charge of the affairs of this city," the daughter of Praxis said, walking up to where she was right in Veger's face. "I am dissolving the council until further notice."

The noble's response was an open handed strike across her face. However, the power behind the blow was mediocre at best, and a second later the count found himself on the ground, knocked flat by the retaliatory backhand Ashelin gave him. He reached into his coat, going for the blaster he kept hidden there.

The room erupted into chaos, and dozens of soldiers leveled their weapons at Veger, while Jak unsheathed his blade and Keira her naginata. However, without a single doubt, the most ferocious figure in the room right then was Torn. His face twisted into a mask of hatred and loathing, he kept his morph gun trained right at the count's forehead. It was all coming to peak, his detestation of this pathetic excuse for a leader. The exiling of their greatest warrior, the botched counter attack that had cost thousands of lives, and the knowledge that history would be repeated on an even grander scale if Veger got his way, and the fact that he had dared to strike the woman he cared for, drove his rage almost to the boiling point.

"Go ahead, please," he begged, his trigger finger quivering, "_give_ me the excuse!"

In the face of such rage, the councilman apparently thought better of his decision, and slowly rose to his feet, looking Ashelin in the eye with a look of pure hatred.

"Like father, like daughter, it would seem," he growled, rubbing his cheek, where a bruise could already be seen forming. Ashelin flinched at that, recoiling slightly as if he had struck her again, only with far more power.

"Shut up," Keira said in a tone of disgust.

A blinding flash filled the room as she ascended into her combat form. Veger stumbled backwards, in apparent awe of this. Then he looked to Jak, as if he could not comprehend that a creature such as she would be wed to him.

"Opposites attract," the dark elf replied with a shrug, very much amused at this turn of events.

Keira didn't say anything else, but striding forward, lashed out with a wing. The next thing that the count knew, he was up in the air, being held around his ankle. She moved towards the door, heedless of his protests and screams to be let down. As it opened, she leaned out, and with a snap, sent the man flying down the hallway, screaming all the while, much to the surprise and then amusement of the door guards.

Turning back inside, she reverted back to her normal form, a smirk on her face.

"Way to take out the trash," Daxter remarked with a chuckle.

"You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that," she responded, a smile practically splitting her face in two.

Torn and Jak, however, were more concerned with Ashelin, She seemed to be almost hyperventilating, her shoulders trembling. They understood a moment later, and shared a glance. Veger's final remark had gotten to her. She was afraid of becoming like her father, of crossing that line. It was to be expected they supposed.

"You're not your old man," Torn responded softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Don't listen to what he said."

"We all knew it was going to come to this sooner or later," Jak said with a sigh.

"Is that what my father though before he revolted?" Ashelin asked bitterly, a dark frown upon her face. "Gods forgive me."

It was something that she feared more than Death himself. She held vivid memories of what Praxis had done, his final redemption notwithstanding. If she was willing to go this far, to seize control of the legitimate government in a coup, what was to stop her from crossing another line, restricting a freedom or two when the necessity arose? The road to hell was paved with good intentions, she'd always been told. Had she just taken her first steps?

"I'll start getting everyone together," the Revenant leader said, motioning to his fellow elites. "We'll draw up a plan…"

The daughter of Praxis nodded somberly as Keira walked over and placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder. They had to be united in the dark time. And united they were, united in their prayers that they were not about to repeat history.

* * *

&

* * *

Hope that wasn't as bad as I thought it was. Will try to not let the next update be so far apart, and I thank everyone who's put up with me lately. Ideas are, as always, welcomed with open arms. 

Also, I've tossed up another couple of stories, if anyone's interested in them.


	29. History Repeats Itself

(Comes out of the darkness, looking rather sheepish)

Well, hello everyone. I know its been quite a while, more than a year, since I've updated this story. I'll just say that writers block, school, personal difficulties, and trying t juggle two stories at once have not helped me in the slightest. But I've managed to finish the other one, and now I'm going to dedicate the rest of my time to finishing this story up. I've managed to get a couple of writing classes under my belt since the last time I worked on this, so hopefully, once I can get back into the flow here, things will start to improve.

Aside from that, I can offer no apology to everyone who I have kept waiting all this time, and if you feel the need to take it out my hide, I'll completely understand. Just give me a minute to go grab my riot gear.

* * *

&

* * *

History Repeats Itself

They marched forward in rows and columns. There were hundreds of them, thousands. Moonlight glistened off of the blue armor as they marched in step towards the massive council building. There were still some civilians out on the street at this time. Children looked on curiously and tugged on their parents' sleeves. They asked what was going on.

The elder members of Haven City, and those more well versed in the Machiavellian nature of politics nodded somberly. They'd seen this coming, they knew what was about to happen.

Like thunderclaps, their steps echoed through the streets of the city, reverberating throughout the air like the beat of a war drum. They rounded a corner, and light spilled upon them. At the front column were two individuals. One clad in black, the other in white armor. The two exchanged a glance as they reached the steps and came to a stop. As one, they nodded, and the black one brought up a mike.

"Count Veger," he said, his voice echoing throughout the area, "You and your men are ordered to stand down. This infighting is pointless. You are outnumbered and surrounded. Surrender, before you force our hand."

They waited for a beat and wondered what the response would be. It came a moment later. There was a crack, and a bolt of Eco lanced through the air. It slammed into the speaker's chest. He grunted and fell back a step. He extended his hand, and dark lightning flowed from it. The blast streaked up towards the building and hit the sniper. He gave a single scream before he plummeted and hit the street with a crunch.

The man in black stood where he was. Then he sighed, and turned back to face the men and women behind him. He dropped the mike, and drew his blade. He nodded, and they snapped their weapons to a ready position.

They rushed forward as one, before they spread out and took up position among the columns of the building. A sphere of darkness flew forward, hit the door and exploded. Metal shards flew through the air and pinged off of armor. Flash bang grenades soared through the newly made portals, and within seconds night turned to day.

The two Ascended Channelers were through opening in a flash, their blades hissing as they whirled them about in instinctive defensive routines. It would prove to be a prudent measure. Many of the Council's soldiers were down on the ground in blind agony. The few who'd shielded their eyes from the explosion threw down retaliatory suppression fire. Multi colored eco bolts streaked through the air, lit the hallway up like some holiday celebration. The beams smashed into walls and the floor and ceiling as the weapons of their foes proved superior. Holes and gashes appeared, molten slag dripped to the floor and spattered outwards.

Freedom League members poured in after them, their submachine guns blazing in tight, controlled bursts of fire. Men and women screamed on both sides as their armor was overwhelmed by enemy firepower, and they went down with holes burned into their vitals.

There was a strange savagery to the battle. From the moment that it had started, everyone knew this would be different. It was not Underground against Krimzon Guard, or Hora-quan, or Death Bots. This was two of the same people against each other, fighting for what they believed was right. Former comrades shot it out, no quarter asked… none given. The guards who were stunned went down first, those who had managed to stand their ground did not do so for long, as the armored Channelers were upon them within seconds.

Their helmets hid their visages, hid their faces. They were like machines, emotionless, remorseless, merciless. With super human speed and ruthlessness, they cut down elves where they stood, or were slain by Jak's dark powers.

Strange, what the desperation to survive did to a group that was bound by the laws of civilization.

The central lobby of the Council Hall, with all of its magnificent carvings and reproduced art, was in shambles within minutes, and under complete control of Ashelin's forces. The blue armored soldiers began to split up, squads and fire teams scattering throughout the building's many corridors and rooms in a furious bid to end this conflict as quickly as they possibly could.

Though they held an overwhelming numerical superiority, their foes were well entrenched, and the soldiers paid with blood for every room, every hallway.

The dark elf led from the front. He rushed up a corridor, a hand picked squadron right behind him. In a move that was naught but a blur, he spun by an armored door. And focused a tightly concentrated beam of Dark Eco into his palm. It acted like a cutting laser, and blew a half foot wide hole in the door. Gunfire erupted out of the hole, but Jak held his position. He gestured to the sergeant of the squadron, who nodded. The man moved forward, reached up to a harness he wore, and ripped off a plasmite grenade. He threw the explosive in. The fiery device burned for a second, and he could hear the cries of 'get down!' surge through the metal.

It went off with enough force to rattle the whole hallway.

An endoscope was fed through the hole a moment later. The room was a smoldering mess of superheated metal and gases. Bits of carbonized skeleton could be seen where the defenders had once been.

Jak prayed their deaths had been quick enough for them not to feel that kind of hellish pain.

The dark Channeler motioned his forces forward. They had to keep pressing the enemy and letting up for a single second could spell disaster.

* * *

Keira was not running into any lighter resistance over in her area. The Council guards fought tooth and nail for every room, every corridor. She pushed herself back up against the wall of a corner, shifting back slightly as a series of submachine gun pulses ripped away part of her cover. The girl steeled herself, and then erected a shield in front of her and spun out around it. Eco bolts streaked towards her as soon as she revealed herself to the enemy. They impacted upon the shielding, splashing out and sending minute cracks through it. With a little bit of focusing, though, Keira was able to strengthen it. 

She brought her other hand up, and a white burst of energy gathered in it. With a scream, she unleashed it. The columns that the enemy soldiers were taking cover behind offered them no protection from the powerful Eco strike. The Ascended Channeler shielded her eyes from the blast, and tried her best to drown out the screams. This wasn't like killing Metal Heads, or anything else she'd ever done before. She didn't want to think about the implications that these were the descendants of her own people that she was cutting down.

"Damn you, Veger," she whispered to herself as other soldiers rushed up behind her.

She took her hate and her self loathing, forced it down deep inside of herself. There would be a time for that later, but it was not now. If she didn't stay at the point, someone else would, and that person wouldn't be able to put up with the punishment that she was able to. There was no sense in more people dying in this mess than absolutely had to.

The girl moved passed what was left of the corpses, and scanned around. The path forked ahead, just as the maps said they would. Just a little ways beyond them was the council chamber. With luck, they'd be able breach the council's defenses and end this quickly.

"Red Team, take left, Blue, right." She ordered. Affirmatives crackled over her radio a moment later. The Ascended Channeler nodded to herself and then locked Masamune into an attack position.

Eyes on her motion tracker, Keira advanced forward. Up ahead there was a blob of movement. Maps that she had looked over beforehand indicated the room that they would be in was some kind of garden sanctuary for the councilmen and women to relax in, which meant that they were probably taking cover behind the various bits of flora there. She steeled herself for what was coming and charged up her powers again. Backing up to the very edge, she formed a small ball of light in her hand, and then hurled it around the corner. Screams of surprise echoed from the soldiers hiding there. The brightness of the attack had overwhelmed their polarizing visors, and she could tell they were writing around on the floor in agony.

She was on them like a wolf. Her naginata tore into the first man, leaving a second smile across the length of his throat and leaving him in a pool of his own blood. Keira blitzed forward to the second man, covering the distance in a fraction of a second. She brought her staff weapon in from below. His armor parted before the ultra sharp weapon and it sliced into his heart. He was dead almost instantly. Number three was too far away for her to reach immediately, so she reached out and created a tendril of light. The whip like attack ensnared the soldier, and threw him against the wall with sickening force. There was a wet crack, and he slowly slid to the ground.

Just five left now. Keira took a flying leap forward, crossing twenty feet and coming down in between two more troopers. These ones were starting to recover, and probably had just enough time to realize what was happening before she spun around. Masamune cut both of them down with a single swipe. Then she turned and focused her attention on the next man. He was screaming, doubtlessly in a lot of pain, and firing blindly. Keira weaved and tried to doge, but a few of the bolts still hit home, dinging and blemishing her armor. She fired an energy beam at him, and the light Eco was sufficient to completely blast through his cover, his armor, and then explode against the fountain at the far end of the room. Stone fragments went everywhere and she heard another howl of agony. The next to last soldier had dropped his weapon and was clutching at his neck. She could see that a knife shaped stone fragment had pierced the glove of his suit, and judging by the amount of blood oozing from between his fingers, he did not have long left to live.

That just left the last man, off in the far corner. As with the former, he appeared to be in a panic. He knew what was upon him, and was firing to try to keep her away. The trooper also didn't appear to be too careful about where he was aiming, he must have known that she had already killed the rest of his squad. Keira jumped up against the wall, ran a few paces along it, and then flipped over. Her books sunk into the soft earth of one of the garden exhibits, but she was only there long enough to leave some foot prints. The Ascended Channeler threw her weapon will all the strength that she could muster. It hit the man, picked him up off the ground, and pinned him to the wall. He gave a choked cry, and coughed up blood. One hand feebly gripped the metal shaft of the naginata as he tried to yank it out of his body.

"All clear," she said, looking back over her shoulder.

The squad behind her came forward, and she moved to retrieve her weapon. Radio chatter was crackling over her comlink, and from the sound of it, while they were taking casualties, Ashelin's forces were steadily pushing forward. They couldn't stop now, though. The council chamber was just a short distance ahead.

* * *

Jak spun through the air dark lightning flashing from his armored fingertips. The men before him screamed as he blasted into them. Those who were not struck down by his powers soon found themselves sliced to pieces by Kitetsu. The sword's edge was stained red with the blood of those he had slain, and behind his mask, the dark elf frowned. He had lost count of the number of people now dead by his hands, and had little time to try to remember. A soldier before him leveled a submachine gun, and opened up with tight controlled bursts. Jak dodged, twisted, and deflected what shots he could, and let his armor handle the rest. Kitetsu sang twice, the first strike cutting the weapon in half, along with the hand on the fore grip. The second blow separated the man's head from his shoulders. The corpse collapsed at his feet. 

Behind him, a Freedom League soldier fired, scoring a shot through the throat of an adversary. There were still more soldiers, though, all the way back to the wide staircase that led up to the council chamber. The dark elf didn't want to spend all this time cutting his way through their ranks, nor did he wish for unnecessary bloodshed. There might have bee a way around it, though.

"Surrender!" Jak called out to them. Though he held Kitetsu at a ready position.

There was a pause as the shooting on both sides stopped. For a second, the dark elf held his breath, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the message would sink in. A few moments later he heard Keira's forces approaching. The Council's soldiers twisted where they were, and sighted up the girl. Nothing happened though. Again, Jak felt hope flutter inside of him. Surely they wouldn't try anything now, not with two Ascended Channelers.

Fingers tapped nervously against weapons, and a man that he recognized as a captain, by his rank bars, carefully stuck his head up.

"What guarantees do we have that you'll spare us?" He asked.

"Very simple, Captain," the dark elf said. "We've got enough to worry about now, with the Fallen on their way. We'll need every gun that we can get our hands on. I don't need to be destroying our defenses." He paused. "Now, lay down your weapons, and I promise that no harm will come to you."

Jak could feel Kage nervously pacing inside of his mind. The Oni was watching these events closely, and Jak could not blame him. So far, most of what he had encountered in these situations usually led to the cornered opponents uselessly throwing away their lives. Would these ones be any smarter.

The squads of soldiers on both sides seemed almost frozen in time, and then, ever so slowly, one man laid down his gun. A few seconds later, so did another, and then another. It built to a crescendo in just a few short seconds, and soon every one of the Council's troops had surrendered.

Jak motioned the men and women behind him forward, and they quickly secured the weapons and began to move the prisoners out. The dark elf nodded and slowly exhaled, a breath he didn't even know that he had been holding. Then he looked over to Keira, and up at the double doors at the top of the staircase. The two met at the base, and then, side by side, they marched up to the top of it.

* * *

Jak looked around himself, and then leaned back against the wall. The Council stood where they were, their hands behind their head, and guns to their backs. Without anyone to protect them, they had quickly given up the fight. With them in custody, Ashelin and the others had come up from the rear, and were busily reading them their rights. They were going to be put into holding cells until this whole mess blew over. 

"**Thank the gods that's over with," **Kage muttered inside of his mind. **"This whole business leaves a foul taste in my mouth."**

"_I know how you feel," _Jak closed his eyes behind his helmet. _"What would my father think if he could see this? What would my mother think?"_

He supposed he should have been grateful, though, this whole mess could have ended differently. At least there were no on the spot executions like the last time that this had happened. Keira was over by a corner. Her helmet was off, and she was quite pale, with a faint greenish tinge to her skin.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked as he drew near to her.

"Does it always feel like this?" she muttered to herself. "This is different from what it was like when it was the Krimzon Guard. These people…"

"Let's just hope we don't have to do it again," he placed a hand on her shoulder, before turning his attention back to the situation. He moved back towards the center of the room, intending to talk with Ashelin, but he was intercepted by a lieutenant.

The officer approached him and saluted. "Colonel, we have a problem. There's no sign of Count Veger anywhere. We've managed to capture a few soldiers who were standing guard in the basement, though. They've revealed that the Count went down a series of catacomb tunnels. We weren't able to get much more out of them, but apparently there's a series of Precursor ruins not too far from here."

The dark elf contemplated this for a few seconds, and then turned to where Keira was. His wife had apparently overheard, though, because she was already gearing back up, slipping her helmet back on over her shoulders. Several other soldiers started to follow, but Jak held up his hand.

"We can handle it, don't worry. Just stick to securing this area and making certain that the Governess is kept safe, understand?" he said. When the soldiers returned the salute, he nodded and turned for the door of the council room.

"Oh no you don't!" He felt a weight jump up onto his shoulder and looked over to see Daxter staring at him. "You know that every time we get involved with some Precursor crap, really bad stuff happens. I'm not letting you two turtledoves go down there alone!"

"Do I detect a hint of loyalty and courage in your voice?" Keira asked. Jak could tell her voice was faint, but a touch of her old humor was still there.

"Hey, if you two get sucked off into another time warp, what happens to me?" Daxter crossed his arms over his chest and stuck out his tongue at her.

Jak felt Kage chuckle in his mind, and joined his alter ego. Then he was out the door, heading down towards the basement.

* * *

The catacombs were pitch black, and it was only thanks to their alternate vision modes that the two Channelers were able to see what they were doing. They advanced forward slowly, their weapons draw and their eyes alert. Their time with Tarath had shown them that the Precursors had had numerous security systems to protect sensitive areas. None of them wanted to think what might happen if they accidentally set one of those things off. 

Before long, he, Keira, and Daxter arrived at what appeared to be a long tunnel. A series of what appeared to be some manner of hover car were arranged in front of it. Keira headed over to scope out the tunnel, tapping her naginata against the metal floor as she looked out into its depths. The tunnel was about twenty feet wide, and perfectly cylindrical. It reminded the girl of the mouth of some great beast, reaching up to swallow them alive. Jake, meanwhile, noticed that one of the cars appeared to be missing. He frowned and moved over to check the vehicles out. The vehicles were large enough to seat a pair of Precursors, from the looks of it, and so the three of them would be able to fit comfortably inside of it. Now, there was just the question of how to activate it. he hopped inside of the transport, noticing that it had a flight stick configuration.

"Kier, come on!" he shouted to her, pressing a large red button on the center of the control board.

Just as he had hoped, the car came to life. A band of light went over him, and Jak realized that he was being scanned. A few moments later, the stick was released into his hands and he started to maneuver the car out.

"_**The controls are like a Hellcat**_**," **Kage said, rubbing his chin. He was perplexed by the similarity to the technology of Haven.

Jak merely shrugged as Keira jumped into the vehicle. The dark elf then spent a few moments getting a feel for the transport, before shooting off down the tunnel. Heaven only knew what Veger might have found down here. Whatever it was, though, Jak didn't want to know what the Count might try to pull with it.

It took them a few minutes to arrive at the end of the tunnel, and their fears were confirmed. The car that had been missing up at the entrance was down here too. That Meant that Veger had to be close. Daxter yelped as both of the elves jumped out and drew their weapons in the same motion.

Jak held Kitetsu at the ready, constantly scanning about and running his helmet through its various vision modes. The elf had to be around here somewhere. His blade seemed to hum with anticipation of what was coming, and Jak had to forcefully remind himself that his objective was not to kill Veger, no matter how much he might have wanted to do it. They advanced further into the corridor, but there was still no sign of the rogue count.

The trio approached a turn a few moments later, and both of them slid up against the corner. Jak gave a quick glance down to his motion sensor. It detected nothing, but that wasn't an all clear. It could only scan so far after all. He cocked his ears to the side, trying to listen for anything that might clue him into to the location of his adversary. When he heard nothing, he bent down into a crouch, and began to silently creep down the next tunnel. Even Daxter understood the gravity of the situation, for though he was scant inches away from his friend, Jak could not hear him breathing.

The dark elf stiffened suddenly, and glanced around. He thought he heard something coming from a side tunnel. He looked over at Keira, and motioned for her to wait a moment, and then he started to move down it. Sure enough, as he drew closer he could pick up the distinct sound of conversation. A few more paces confirmed the voice of Count Veger. He heard Kage growl inside of his mind, the demon was nearly drooling with anticipation of what was to come. Jak turned around and signaled for Keira to follow him. The girl nodded, and fell in behind him.

"It is an honor to stand in the presence of such magnificent beings." They heard the Count say as they drew out into the end of the tunnel.

The passage opened up into a large room, about a hundred feet around. The two of them could see a variety of old technical equipment that appeared to have been recently refurbished lying around as well. So what was this place? Was it some kind of tech lab like the other ones that they had been to?

"You've said that a dozen times, now, would you please just get to the point?" Jak heard another voice, one that he didn't recognize at all. It was deep, and impatient, and even with a multitude of vision modes, the dark elf was unable to locate the source of it.

"I have dedicated most of my life to understanding the mysteries of your race, and to find that some of you are still alive fills my heart with joy. If it is not too much to ask, I would humbly request to join your ranks." Veger bowed low before the unseen voice. "I know that with your power, such a thing is possible."

There was a lengthy silence, and the trio exchanged glances with each other. Surely the Ancients would not be so foolish as too… A loud noise drew their attention back to Veger. They saw a large hovering piece of equipment come down out the air. It was semispherical, and had two glowing blue objects that could almost be mistaken for eyes. That was where the voice was coming from.

Keira leaned forward, wondering what the device was, the tech savvy part of her mind was itching to see its internals. But she checked herself, wanting to see what would happen next.

"Very well," the voice said. "But, be careful what you wish for…"

A beam of light came down from the ceiling and enveloped the Count. Motes and flashes of blue, red, and green filled the air around him. With a triumphant yell, the elf stuck his arms out and cheered.

It was now or never. Jak had faced a Precursor in battle before, even if it was only sparring. He had no desire to see what Veger had in mind with that kind of power. Keira was right behind him, Masamune spinning in her hands. Both of them let out battle screams as they charged in at the Count. He whirled suddenly, and they saw the expression on his face go from triumphant to ready to soil himself fear in a split second. However, before the two Ascended Channelers could close the distance and stop him, a barrier sprang up in front of them.

"Enough!" the voice shouted. "There will be no violence here. We have troubles enough to worry about." The machine came over to where Jak and Keira were. "Ahh, it is good that the three of you have arrived. We were about to send Tarath to fetch you."

Veger's face became a study in shock as he heard those words. He glared up at the machine as the light around him finally faded. "Seek the aid of these destructive freaks? You must be out of your minds! They're a menace to our society."

"They are our best chance for survival, you fool!" a new voice shouted, a female one. Both elves recognized it: Ariki. "And if I hear you bad mouth them one more time, the planet as my witness, I'm going to…" the machine gave a violent lurch.

"Ariki, watch out, your going to make us—" the first voice was cut off as the machine careened into the ground.

Both Jak and Keira winced and exchanged glances with each other. What in the world was going on here? Jak heard muffled swearing coming from inside of the contraption, and took an inquisitive step forward. The front of the device suddenly popped open, and two very small shapes tumbled out.

"Ariki, what the heck were you do—" Jak recognized the voice as the first Precursor.

What startled him though, was that it was coming from a bundle of robes and fur less than a foot and a half tall. Ariki, if that was indeed her, was even shorter. Both of them got up, glaring at each other and dusting their robes off. All parties present just stared as the two of them went back to screaming at each other, completely oblivious to the elves and Daxter.

The ottsel was the first one to break the silence.

"What… the…" he rubbed his large eyes. "The almighty Ancients… are…"

"Ottsels?" Keira finished for him.

Only then did the two of them stop and look at the audience. Shock covered the face of the two creatures, and they looked at each other, and then back to the group in front of them.

"Errrrr," the first one began, picking at his beard. His eyes darted about, like a prey animal about to bolt.

Ariki just blushed, and Jak noticed that she was staring straight at Daxter. She quickly turned around and clasped her hands behind her back.

"Hey, wait a minute, how come you guys get clothes?" Daxter demanded, walking towards them and staring straight into the eyes of the male.

"Ummm," he gulped, before suddenly looking up into the darkness behind him. "Tarath, help!"

"It is not my responsibility to save you from matters that revolve around your own ego, my Excellency."

Jak, Keira and Daxter once again found themselves paralyzed by what they saw. Down from the upper reaches of the room came a small figure. He was larger than the other two though, and clad in a diminutive suit of black armor. He crossed his arms over his chest as he floated there, staring down at the group.

Suddenly, Veger, who looked about ready to explode, the way his cheeks were puffed out, drew a pistol. "You insolent little creatures! Step away from those machines!"

There was a sphere of darkness that suddenly formed around Tarath. It up a split second later, revealing a form that Jak was much more familiar with. Veger heard the noise and twisted to look back over his shoulder. His eyes widened in surprise and he fired a reflexive shot off as the Precursor warrior streaked in towards him. The round merely bounced harmlessly off of Tarath, though. There was no time for anything more than that, as Tarath's warp blade snapped into attack position, and he lashed out. A shriek split the air as the gun was cut in half, followed swiftly by a much more high pitched yelp as the Count found himself knocked to the ground. He gulped as he felt Tarath's razor sharp weapon press up against his throat.

"Defending you against physical threats to your bodily health, on the other hand, is my department." He looked over to Jak and Keira, nodding slightly.

"What is going on here?" Keira asked, shaking her head hopelessly at the situation before.

"I… we…" the bearded ottsel continued to sputter.

"Oh, come off it, Executor, the secret is out already, as it should have been months ago. Just tell them." A bolt of dark lightning crackled around Tarath's body.

"Very well," the Precursor snapped, before staring up at Jak and Keira. "The great mystery that your kind has wondered about for eons is over at last. Here's what we look like normally."

"Wait a minute, then," Daxter muttered to himself, rubbing a hand along his chin. "If you're Precursors, but you're also ottsels, then that means…" an ear splitting grin lit up on his face. He let out a loud shout and jumped up into the air, vaulting off of Jak's shoulder before beginning to dance around. "I'm a Precursor, I'm a Precursor!" he began to chant and sing.

"And to think," Veger muttered to himself, "I wanted to…" his voice trailed off, and his eyes widened in horror.

"I think the changes are going to happen at any second." Jak could tell that Tarath was smirking as he made that statement.

There was a flash of light that blinded them all for a moment. When it cleared, Tarath was holding nothing but a very expensive suit. A tiny bulge could be seen wiggling around underneath the clothes, though. A few moments later, the group was treated to the sight of a short and balding ottsel, with a pair of very distinct, overly bushy eyebrows.

Within his mind, Jak heard Kage burst into raucous laughter. He joined his alter ego a moment later in the mirth of the moment.

"You… you… I'll," Veger shook a pint sized fist at the dark Channeler. Then he turned to glare at everyone else, before he was made aware of the fact that Ariki was blushing again.

"Little drafty, isn't it?" Tarath asked, cocking his head to the right slightly.

Veger just sputtered and dove back down into his clothes. Tarath snorted, and then turned his attention back to the trio in front of him.

"Well, now that the big secret is finally out, do you mind coming along with me?" He folded his arms over his chest, and motioned for them to follow.

"What's going on, Tarath?" Jak asked, moving in behind his ancestor.

"Much as I hate to allow it to happen, the Executor has gone over my head," The Reaver said, leading them deeper into the complex. "He is convinced that we will need all the Channelers that we can get."

"There are other Channelers around here?" Keira asked, looking up at the large warrior.

"A small collection of them have clustered together in a region of the planet approximately four thousand kilometers from this position." Tarath pressed a series of numbers into a keypad, opening up the door before them. "It will not be easy to convince them to join us, though. I have spent some of my time carefully watching them. They are bitter about their position in life, and I don't blame them."

"What do you mean, Vader?" Daxter did not look convinced.

"Not everyone has been as receptive to your kind as Haven has, remember that."

With that, Tarath advanced into the darkness.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, hope that wasn't as bad as I thought it was. 

And now I will proceed to crouch behind my riot gear and await your furious vengeance… for all the good the padding will do me.

As always, feedback is graciously accepted. Be it in the form of advice, ideas, or in this case, flaming the holy hell out of me/verbally reducing me to a fine red pulp.

(braces self for pounding)

In the meantime, do have a good day.


	30. Gathering of Allies

Sorry about the delay again, folks. College life is a pain, and I'm busy studying for exams, grad tests, and possibly an LSAT. That aside, I hope life has been treating you well, and that everyone is doing fine.

The usual disclaimer applies, except for a character who will appear at the end of the chapter. He is the intellectual property of Philoworm, not me.

Also, special thanks to Animedragongirl for once again stepping up to the plate and correcting my errors.

* * *

&

* * *

Gathering of Allies

The trio walked through the various hallways of the catacombs. All around them, they could see a bustle of activity. Small repair drones were welding circuits back together and helping to assemble what appeared to be suits of Precursor armor.

"As you can see, we're still busily trying to prepare ourselves for the coming storm," Tarath said as he looked back over his shoulder. "But it still might not be enough."

"I'm still not sure entirely how many of these guys we're going to be facing." Jak moved faster, matching the Reaver's pace.

"Nor are we. We are preparing for the worst, though," Tarath replied.

"What did you mean when you said not to expect a warm welcome?" Keira asked, also moving up next to the dark warrior.

Tarath said nothing at first, and kept his gaze on the corridor ahead. The girl felt as if he was frowning behind his war helmet. Finally, he spoke. "Haven was founded by a Channeler, ruled over by them, watched over by them. In times of darkness, your people have turned to Mar's descendants to keep them safe. In other places, it has not been the same. I will leave it at that. I will not try to explain that which I was not a part of."

He turned a corner and they entered into another portion of the catacombs. There was a series of teleport gates around them, going up for three or four tiers up towards the top of the circular chamber. A few drones swarmed around, doing spot welding and soldering circuits together. A handful of Dragoons and Zealots also stood watchfully around. As one, they saluted Tarath as he approached, and held it as Jak and Keira passed.

"There is an intruder that needs to be detained in the artifact chamber. Secure him, bring him up to speed on the situation, and begin combat preparations," their guide ordered, gesturing behind him.

As one, the soldiers moved, the Dragoons blitzing away as little more than blurs. The Zealots followed, and while not as fast, they were certainly more agile than their heavy-set, overly armored appearance would lead one to believe. Jak felt a swell of pity for anyone who thought them to be little more than lumbering brutes. Then something occurred to him.

"You said to prepare Veger for combat training…" He paused and looked up at his ancestor. "Are you really that desperate?"

"We're already training our children to fight this battle. The dark elf couldn't miss the disgust that was in the Reaver's voice. "If our youth are going to be sacrificed for this struggle, then that sorry sack of puss certainly can be prepared to do the same."

"**A wise choice, it would be the first useful thing that he did in his entire existence,"** Kage said, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding.

"_We just have to make certain that he won't be more of a liability than an asset. I don't want people to die because of his cowardice." _ Jak kept his inner voice neutral. Still, he had to agree with his alter ego. There was a lot riding on what was coming.

"Why does the fate of the world always seem to fall on our shoulders?" Daxter gave voice to their thoughts. It was the first that the little guy had spoken since his joyous outburst a few minutes earlier, almost a new record for him in the art of silence. Jak look down to his friend, but could get nothing else out of him. He seemed unusually pensive, merely sitting there on the dark elf's shoulder, his right hand propping up his chin.

The four of them stopped in front of one of the teleporters. Tarath moved forward and pressed a few buttons on it. There was a blue crystal at the top of the golden hoop, which came to life for a moment, and began to run a scan over them. It tingled at their flesh, a sensation that Jak found best comparable to someone running a feather over his skin very quickly.

"Identities confirmed, destination approved," the computer chimed. The watery distortions of the warp portal appeared before them. Tarath stepped through first, and then they followed. The sensation was at it always was, a sense of vertigo, a brief flash of nausea as they were ripped through an area that was not quite reality, and yet was. Still, they managed to emerge on their feet, and were grateful for that. They stared around, and Jak heard a gasp of awe from his wife

They were in what could only have been a motor pool, or at least its equivalent. The room they were in was massive, more than half a mile long, and just as deep. The ceiling, several hundred feet high, had clamps and bracers on it. What appeared to be some manner of drop ship was dangling from it. Beneath them, on the floor, were hundreds of assault bikes. Dragoons, some of them veteran warriors, others apparently the children that Tarath had talked about, stood over them, preparing the vehicles and familiarizing themselves with them. Keira was taken in and overwhelmed by it all. Her mechanic side demanded that she head to each of the vehicles and stations and find out how they worked, what made them tick, every little idiosyncrasy and quirk that the vehicles could have.

Jak suddenly asked "Where's Sentinel?"

"He's not here," Tarath replied. "We uncovered an old weapons cache out in the Wasteland, and he's currently doing inventory there. As soon as we've tallied up what we've got, we'll decide our next course of action. It may prove to ultimately useless, though," he added, approaching a control panel and typing in a series of commands. He looked back over his shoulder as he finished, seeing through their masks and understanding the looks that they were giving him. "The Fallen have access to a heavy assault cruiser. We're not sure how they made the conversion, as the Day Star was originally little more than a transport, only armed enough for self defense." He sighed bitterly. "If they wanted to, they could blast everything remotely resembling opposition into oblivion from the safety of orbit. We're currently trying to figure out a way to neutralize the Day Star, but if we can't, we will be, as you say 'up the creek without a paddle.'"

Jak, Keira, and Daxter said nothing. They were distracted by a noise from above. One of the drop ships had detached from its holdings and was now drifting down towards them. It hovered some thirty feet above where they were standing, and a light opened up from the bottom. Again, Tarath went first, steppestepping into the light, and they watched as the brightness contrasted and haloed his midnight black armor. Then he rose into the ship.

"I guess we follow him, then," Jak muttered, stepping up next. Daxter gave a slight yelp as they were lifted up. The sensation of it reminded Jak of a wild ride on a flut-flut, the feeling of his stomach rising up into his chest. It was over sooner than he expected and he was inside of the ship. He looked around. It reminded him a lot of the drop ships used by the Freedom League, except they were more spacious on the inside. Tarath had reverted back to his 'natural' state, and was now floating over what appeared to be a troop seating area. It was long, like a bench, and there was a small amount of padding. The ottsel warrior scratched the back of his head sheepishly, and looked at his descendant.

"I'm afraid that this wasn't really designed with elves in mind," he said, and he sighed. "Much as I hate to say it, I'm afraid that you'll have to sit on the floor."

"We've had worse accommodations," the dark elf said, waving a hand dismissively.

"**Indeed, compared to some of those KG transports we were in, and the prison cells, this place is downright homey," **Kage chuckled, and for a moment Jak had trouble deciding whether the oni was being bitter or genuinely trying to lighten up the situation. He decided that he would settle on the latter, and moved towards the rear of the ship. Keira though, moved towards the front, staring at the small cockpit in wonder, trying to memorize every detail.

A series of Precursor soldiers moved in behind them. Jak recognized the various types. Dragoons, Zealots, Templars, Arbiters, and even a pair of Archons fitted out the forty soldier crew. One of the blue armored Dragoons moved towards the front of the craft and another into a seat that was just a tad higher than the pilot station.

"A gunner," Tarath said, as the other soldiers settled around him. "We're not foolish enough to send our drop ships in without the ability to defend themselves."

"Honorbound One, reporting in," the pilot said. "Two, do you copy?"

"Roger that, flight lead. Take us out."

The crafts rumbled faintly and rose up. Jak and Daxter turned their attention to the area that they could see. In front of the windows they saw an opening appear; light poured in from the gap, rapidly widening.

"**By the gods…"**Kage murmured in awe. Jak found himself in silent agreement with his companion. The base that they were in was set into a large mountain range. Pristine sunlight reflected off of the snow capped peaks.

For a moment, he felt as though he were back in Sandover's time. He held onto that moment of peace, tucked it away safely, and then prepared himself for the coming conflict.

"Brace yourselves," a soldier said. "These crates can move pretty fast."

Daxter opened his mouth to say something, and then found it forcefully shut as he and his friend were both shoved back against the rear of the craft. Keira met a similar fate, falling backwards and sliding towards them before she crashed up against the other two. The whine of the engines roared in their ears, and they rocketed out of the hangar.

"Told you," the trooper crowed, before laughing.

* * *

As the doors opened in front of him, Samos looked around control room, searching for Ashelin. The Governess was busy at her command desk, looking over files, taking in notes of the casualty reports and damage to the various sectors. They were still working hard to get everything back up, but most of the Industrial District had been brought back up to speeds. Or at least, the bits responsible for turning out war machines. Vin was personally overseeing the construction of a new series of Hunter Killers, which would function as heavy shock infantry if an when the Fallen Precursors attacked.

As the Sage stepped up towards her, she took notice of him.

"Samos, what is it?" she placed down a form and gave him her undivided attention.

"I need to head out to the Wasteland, to Spargus, specifically," he said, tapping his staff against the floor.

"May I ask why?" Ashelin raised an eyebrow. What business would a Green Eco Sage have in that life-devoid hellhole?

"There is someone there that I need to speak with, someone that Onin has recently informed me about," he said.

Ashelin nodded gravely. "I'll get a drop ship ready for you, and a squad of my best soldiers." Both of them knew better than to question the wisdom of the old seer.

* * *

Jak wasn't certain how long it took them to reach their destination. He kept looking at Tarath his mind trying to digest all the things he'd learned. There were so many things that he still wanted to ask the old warrior, especially in light of the recent revelations that he'd seen. Why had the Ancients kept their appearance a secret for so long? Why hadn't the Reaver been entirely truthful with them? And then there was the soldier himself. Both he and Kage had noticed how a portion of the old ottsel's dreadlocks were gray, rather than black. He was fairly certain they weren't a sign of old age, so then what could they be? He was also surprised, again, by Daxter's silence. His childhood friend seemed to have a look of deep, almost pensive, thought about him, something that he could remember seeing only rarely.

"What are you thinking about?" the dark elf asked.

Daxter raised his head and looked over towards him. His left eyebrow raised up, but he said nothing at first. Jak cocked his head to the side, and with a faint grumble, Daxter finally spoke.

"A lot, let's just leave it at that." The ottsel muttered, crossing his arms and returning to his musings.

"**I worry for him; he's had quite a bit happen to him these past few hours." **Kage tapped a finger against his muzzle, his wings folding in around himself.

"_I agree, but at the same time, I don't want to push him too hard. You know what it's like to just want some time to think and focus on everything that's going on," _Jak replied. He looked over to his wife. She was still staring around in wonderment at all the devices and controls that there were to be found on the ship. However, she didn't have long to observe, before an alarm started to warble.

"Situation?" Tarath said, leaping up from his seat and floating over to the pilot.

"We've arrived at our destination, but I'm detecting weaponized Eco signatures, and Hora-quan life forms," the pilot said grimly, before barking out orders. "ETA two minutes, Honorbound Two, prep your soldiers and double check your weapons, looks like this is going to be a hot insert!"

The Precursor warriors on the ship said nothing, but they sprang into action immediately. Weapons were readied and a hushed tension filled the air. Jak reached back and felt for Kitetsu, nodding to himself and focusing. He could already feel the adrenaline starting to pulse and flow through his body. Unlike earlier, this time, he welcomed it, it didn't take much for him to hate the Metal Heads. Another chance to thin their ranks would always be welcomed.

The two minutes passed in what was seemingly an instant and before he knew it, the pilots were broadcasting images to the HUDs of the soldiers. Jak was greeted with the sight of several plateau type formations, each one several hundred feet high and seemed to be carved from granite. Given how sheer and steep the rock walls were, he was honestly surprised that the Metal Heads were able to mount anything that resembled an assault upon the place. Then he noticed what was going on. Guardians were flying around the area, some of them blasting buildings with their Dark Eco breath weapons, while others moved in close, and other Metal Heads sprang off of them. Apparently, the large creatures could double as transports. Dozens of them swarmed around, spraying Dark Eco everywhere and offloading scores of soldiers. As always, Crab Heads were leading the assault, barking out orders and keeping their lesser soldiers in line.

"Swat those things down!" Tarath barked, while heading back for the gravity lift. A multitude of flashes filled the holding area as the Precursors assumed their combat forms. Clad in their armor, with their weapons reflecting the light, they were a sight to behold. Jak wondered if he was the first elf to see them like this in thousands of years

"Aerial units first, take down those freaks before they can cause any more damage.. The rest of you, wait until you're over something a little more solid." Tarath said, and with that, he was gone. The soldier compliment followed in earnest.

"I'm bringing us in, one pass, bang out fast, then I've got to drop those Guardians before they take us all down," the pilot yelled out over the comm. system.

"Roger that," Keira said. Her voice was colder than it had been before. Jak recognized the lust for vengeance that lurked just underneath the surface. He felt genuinely sorry for anyone who got in her way.

Even as the transport came streaking in, slipping in between the structures, the gunner turned his weapons on the airborne foes. Wasps exploded into steaming clouds of vaporized flesh, armor, and Eco as the bolts streaked in. Jak stepped onto the lift, placing Daxter on one of the seating pads. The ottsel started to protest, but Jak was gone before he could hear it.

The town, if it was indeed that, reminded Jak of a desert dwelling people he had once read about, who had carved their homes out of the rock and sun kissed stone, using it to shield themselves from the worst of the elements. The place was partially destroyed now, disintegrated stone and buildings everywhere, as were the Metal Heads. The Ascended Channeler spotted a group dead ahead of himself, composed of a mix of Grunts, Drones, and Centurions, and rushed at them. He drew his katana with a single, smooth stroke, created a shadow copy of it, and unleashed a lightning attack. Three Drones died instantly as the bolts coursed over their body, but the rest of them took up flanking positions while the Centurions raised their shields and opened fire with their blasters.

The dark elf weaved and dodged as best as he could, deflecting a round when it got too close to him for comfort. A couple of rounds still connected with him, but his armor was sturdy and held up to them. He focused his powers and summoned up a dark bomb. He grunted as he shot it at them, and heard their squawks as the Dark Eco homed in on them. It detonated a split second later, and when the blast cleared, only half disintegrated bodies remained.

Precursor soldiers started to charge past him, and for the first time, Jak watched their assault. They worked together on a level that almost seemed telepathic to him. A dragoon charged forward, weaving between eco bolts fired by a Crab Head. The Ancient extended a hand, and an unseen force blasted the Metal Head off of its feet. It smashed into to the building behind it with enough force to crack the masonry. As it slumped down, the Dragoon attacked again, sweeping a wave of Drones effortlessly to the side. Then a Zealot moved forward. The hulking, red armored soldier focused for a moment, clenching its fists. Around it, bits of debris and rubble began to glow. The Dragoon gestured, and picked them up telekinetically. Another flick of the wrist sent them towards the pile of Metal Heads that were trying to untangle themselves from one another.

The pieces of debris went off like a half ton bomb. The fireball enveloped the Hora-quan, while superheated stone shrapnel tore through their bodies. Jak winced as he observed the event, realizing that this was how the Ancients had used when they fought in ancient times

The small squad of Dragoons and Zealots quickly worked together to clear the area of any surrounding Metal Heads. It was not long before they had managed to clear the area of the fiends, and they began to move forward. Jak was at the lead, both of his weapons ready to tear into the flesh of his hated enemy. As they rounded a corner, he heard the sounds of battle and saw the massive blob of movement on his motion sensor.

"_**Here we go,"**_Kage growled, his talons flexing. The Dark Eco demon wanted out, but Jak decided to save that for an emergency. He wasn't sure what these people would make of an approaching devil.

The street turned in to what must have been some form of marketplace or plaza. Channeled attacks and Eco bolts streaked back and forth across it. The fighting was building to building; an elf would lean out from behind a window, fire, and then withdraw in the face of a furious retaliation from the Metal Heads that occupied the next structure. Jak looked over to his wife, and they nodded. Dark lightening and white light flew down the street a moment later a pair of Centurions that had been taking cover in a doorway never had a chance. The explosion got the attention of a few more, which turned to see its source. The sight of the Precursor warriors was enough to shock them for a moment or two, something that the group of fighters used to their advantage. Jak watched as a Dragoon telekinetically grabbed a Crab Head, before yanking it out of the building with such force that part of it was torn clean through a wall. Even from where he was, he could hear its howl of agony. A downward gesture smashed the creature into the ground, silencing it forever.

"_**Are you about to let them take all of the burden?" **_Kage asked, sounding impatient.

Jak did not answer. He dispelled the shadow blade in his left hand and summoned up a dark mist attack. The cloud of inky darkness rushed around, dividing itself up and swarming through the buildings occupied by the Hora-quan. The horrid cries of the Metal Heads consumed by the Dark Eco manifested a second later. Grunts and Drones broke ranks and tried to flee, and Jak and the others could hear the desperate shouting of the Crab Heads as they tried to restore order. It was not working, however. The elves and Precursors alike watched as a centurion hurled itself out of a sixth story window. The creature was missing a portion of one foot, and its dark ichor-like blood splattered to the stone ground a half second before it did.

Jak released his concentration before he drained himself too much. There were not too many of their foes left in this area, but he felt confident that his swordsmanship and other, less intensive powers would be sufficient.

"Keep moving forward! We've nearly cleaned up the situation up here," Tarath called to them over the radio commlink.

"Roger that," Jak kept his voice neutral, his eyes darting about, trying to find where the next group of enemies might be hiding. They were discovered as the Precursors went about their business. Huddling away in the bottom floor of one of the rubble strewn buildings was a group of a dozen Drones. The four legged creatures were obviously terrified at the sudden change of odds, and were trying to remain inconspicuous. A Zealot quickly moved forward. He didn't waste time moving in and cutting them down with his psion blade; instead, the hulking solider merely extended his hands. There was a flash of heat, and thick, oily fire appeared from out of nowhere. Though most of Jak's view was blocked by the massive frame of the warrior, he did notice the fire streaking about almost as if it were a living being. It caught the creatures as they tried to flee from the crimson armored Ancient. One tried to dart up the staircase, but the dark elf watched as a tendril of fire snaked up and wrapped itself around the fiend's waist. It gave a howl, reared up, and then it fell backwards, to be consumed by more of the inferno.

The stench of burning flesh soon assaulted the Ascended Channeler, but he ignored it, and focused on cleaning out the rest of the town.

As he worked, he noticed that there were a few defenders up in the buildings. They looked ragged and weary, and there was a noticeable amount of distrust on their faces. 'Mysterious rescuers of unknown origin miraculously arriving in coherence with an enemy assault' sounded suspicious enough to Jak's ears.

"Footman, remain here with an Arbiter and a Dragoon, guard these entranceways. Make sure they remain safe," one of the larger Zealots said.

"At once, Centurion!" one of his fellows responded, saluting The warrior stood in front of an entrance with two of his comrades, and moved inside the threshold. Any Hora-quan that stepped through the doorway would be in for a very nasty surprise.

"Everyone else, fall in behind me. The devils are still around, waiting to taste our blades!" the officer shouted.

They began to advance once more, through the ruins of the town.

"Praetor, we are approaching the center of the settlement," the Centurion said as they moved up alongside the street, Zealots in the middle of the formation, with the Dragoons taking up the flanks and darting around in quick, blurred motions.

This region is in absolute shambles, Jak thought to himself. The street he was walking on reminded him a lot of the slums back at Haven, or at least, what they would have looked like if they had been made of stone instead of metal. It ran down the path they were on for another five hundred feet, with three other roads intersecting it at regular intervals. Half of that street was blocked by fallen debris and rubble form the destroyed buildings. Not a single one of the stone dwellings was intact. Jak did notice something odd, however; some of the structures were covered in a fine to thick layer of dust, while others appears to have small wooden and metal props sticking up out of them. They reminded him almost of tent stakes, like someone had been trying to set something up there.

"_**This is not the first time this village has been attacked," **_Kage growled to himself. The oni's muscles bulged and dark lightning crackled over his claws. Jak felt his presence surge to the forefront of his mind. The demon wanted to fight, to rend the Metal Heads to pieces with his bare talons and his teeth. Still, Jak held him back.

"_Another time, Kage, another time. You'll get your shot," _he whispered in his mind. This seemed to placate Kage to a point, but the dark elf's alter ego was nearly consumed by a lust for the destruction of their enemies.

"Nearly finished up here," Tarath said to them. "Once we've managed to blast the fiends out of the sky, we'll move in while the drop ships provide additional cover fire."

Advancing at full speed, they quickly reached the corner. Jak was the first one to it. His motion tracker was negative to any contacts in the immediate area, but he could hear weapons fire and explosions further down. He carefully peeked around the corner, ready to duck back the minute things proved to hot for his liking. The battle was close, about six hundred feet away. He took note of what he saw: the Metal heads were swarming around what appeared to be a barricade. While shots of Yellow Eco pulsed by again and again, each blast striking at either a Metal Head or close enough to cause them to fall back. Centurions and Crab Heads kept up the fire, and once in a while Jak would hear the sound of an elf being hit by the fire.

"We've reached what appears to be the primary contested area, Praetor," the Centurion said. "Preparing to make an assault from the east."

"Roger that, we just finished mopping up here. We'll be coming in from the north, so watch your fields of fire," Tarath replied.

"Understood, Praetor," the warrior growled.

The soldiers moved in, taking advantage of what cover the rubble provided, ducking and weaving, working their way as close as they could. Jak noticed that there was a gold armored Crab Head standing off to the side of one of the buildings. The creature's huge frame moved with lightning quickness as it popped in an out of an alley, firing its twin weapons. One burst caught an elf in the chest: the man slumped down, his chest blown wide open. Kage snarled within the dark elf. He demanded action, and Jak was more than happy to provide it. They were close enough now that the Precursors could make lethal use of their powers.

"Engaging," he muttered into his comm.

The Ancients acknowledged his statement, and as he popped up and unleashed his dark powers, they followed suit. The closest Metal Heads were burned alive in an instant as the Zealots blazed their way into close combat. They kept the streams moving out in front of them as they closed, preventing the Grunts and Drones from flanking them. Centurions and Crab Heads opened fire on them, but the bolts were largely ineffective.

Keira was not to be left out. She swept a pair of energy beams across the path of the Hora-quan before her. Their deaths were swift; they didn't even have time to cry out. Then she was up beside her soul mate. The two of them cleared the broken field of debris and reached the square. A pair of dark bombs flew from Jak's hands and exploded amongst the densest concentrations. He then turned his attention to the gold armored leader.

The creature noticed him, and raised both guns. It opened up with short controlled bursts. Much as Jak tried, he wasn't able to deflect them all and found himself having to weave about in order to avoid getting hit. The Metal Head dodged and weaved as best it could, but some of the bolts Jak Reflected connected with it and crackled over its armor. The beast howled in agony, but managed to keep up the focus. It barked orders into it its comm. system, and the Metal Head forces abruptly split.

That was all it had time for before Jak had closed to the point where he could bring out his sword. Kitetsu sang its song as it tore through the creature's armor, sliced into flesh and bone, and into free air. The Crab Head drooled blood and collapsed, its rifles firing uselessly into the ground as it expired.

A cry of fury sounded in Jak's ear, and he turned to see Tarath come blasting in. Dark Eco and bursts of black energy streamed from the Reaver's hands. A group of Centurions that had interlocked their shields tried to raise them to ward the attack, but they were not fast enough. Agonized cries echoed through the town square as the Dark Eco began to consume their bodies.

Tarath came in instantly, a blur of motion as he hit a formation of Grunts that were trying to reground under the command of a Crab Head, not minding that they were trying for a retreat instead of an assault. Jak and Keira both stopped in their attacks as they saw him. Neither had witnessed the famed Precursor warrior in battle before. Jak had sparred with him before… but this… this was different. The black armored warrior was like a possessed devil, his warp blade striking everywhere at once. The first one to die was a Grunt standing in front of the Crab Head.

Its head was taken off in a single decisive strike. Blood erupted in a shower that covered the Praetor and the remaining Metal Heads. More lightening erupted, and the two Drones standing in front of their leader died instantly. The Crab Head snarled in its native tongue and fired on Tarath. The Reaver however, dodged to the side. At the same time more blasts of channeled Dark Eco exploded in their ranks. The Hora-quan leader turned and gaped as he realized that he'd been flanked.

Ferocious as Tarath's assault was, it was little more than a diversion. The other Reavers had maneuvered into position, and were now on top of one of the buildings. They held a commanding view of the battlefield, and now there was nowhere that the Metal Heads could retreat to. Distracted as it was, the Crab Head forgot all about the Praetor until it felt the warp blade tearing into its side. Its howl of agony was cut off in mid cry as the metatron weapon bit deep into its flesh. Tarath's dreadlocks fluttered out behind him as he finished the spinning strike. Even as its corpse fell to the side, however, he launched himself at the now disoriented and leaderless Metal Head group.

A Grunt leaped at him, claws outstretched and ready to tear at him. What it got instead was the Praetor's boot in its throat. The twin taloned foot slashed across it, nearly decapitating the creature. Another one tried to dive around and flank him, but Tarath's warp blade caught it, slicing one of its arms clean off. A dark bolt of energy finished it.

Jak and Keira were both advancing, thinning the enemy ranks instead of watching Tarath; it was too dangerous not to. There were only a few dozen Metal Heads left, and there was no escape for them. Between the Reavers and Templars raining death down on their foes, and the Dragoons covering the exits, oblivion was the only way out. Some of them still tried to hole up in the buildings, but the Zealots were quickly cleaning them out with their pyrokinesis and psion claws. Off in the distance, a few stragglers that were trying to make their way towards and from the market place were being blasted apart and atomized by the drop ships' weapons.

Tarath was still blazing away, and from where the two elves were, they could see his eyes glowing like coals behind his visor. There was something about his stance now that went beyond just fighting, more than just the adrenaline rush of battle.

Jak recognized it instantly. Hate. Rage was consuming the Reaver, rage that was strangely dualed in nature. He radiated the emotion in white hot waves, but his stance never faltered, every slash, cut, and thrust was measured and balanced. The hate was cold. The hate was calculated.

A roar came from the warrior's throat, and he lunged for another Metal Head. His blade stabbed forward, diving in halfway up to the hilt before he dragged it down and gutted it. He jumped up over a diving attack that one of the Drones launched at his legs, spinning around in mid air and cutting open its spine. There was only one left that he had to deal with, one final Hora-quan. He let it come at him. The Drone leaped, coming up off its four legs and sailing throat the air. As it neared his throat, Tarath's left hand shot out and grabbed it around the neck. The creature instantly realized that it had fallen neatly into his opponent's hand, and began to squirm. Tarath didn't give it the opportunity to free itself, and he quickly twisted his wrist to one side. The sound of cracking bone was clearly heard. The Precursor let the corpse fall, and simply stood where he was. Jak was surprised; the other Ancients were panting, some of them still in the heat of battle, but Tarath did not. It was almost as if the Reaver wasn't breathing at all.

Jak and Keira both approached him, and as they did, he turned to face them.

"You both fought well. You should be proud of yourselves," he said, flicking his warp blade back into its non active position. "Status reports?" he asked the others.

"Everything is green, Preator. A few minor injuries, nothing the Arbiters can't handle," a Centurion stated. "We got off pretty easy. I don't think they were expecting us."

"Don't expect it to happen twice. Now Kerrog will know that we've entered the game." He looked around at the half destroyed town, his eyes drifting up to the elves that he could see at the windows, ready to continue fighting at the moment that things turned hostile. "This was no random raid. Kerrog must have known about this place. He knew we'd be coming here."

"What now?" Keira asked.

"They make the next move," Tarath said, moving up towards one of the buildings.

Sure enough, before long, one of the Channelers emerged from the structure. An old, legionnaire styled helmet covered his head, which went with a similar style of old plate armor. Still, Jak could see his violet eyes, and knew the Channeler was in charge, just by the way he carried himself. The elf was slightly shorter than he was, and his build lent to the belief that he was quicker on his feet than he was strong. The two blades on his belt, longer than knives but not quite into the short sword category, seemed to support this.

Jak matched the elf's stare, twisting his head slightly. The man radiated hostility and suspicion. "Who are you?" the elf growled, one hand on a hilt.

"Friends," Tarath said, stepping over to him. The eyes immediately snapped to the Precursor, and Jak saw no trust in them.

"We have no friends." His voice was hard in a manner that Jak found hauntingly familiar.

"_**He sounds like we used to…" **_Kage blinked within his mind, his wings twitching uncomfortably at what he was seeing.

"There's a first time for everything," Keira said, stepping forward. The girl didn't seem at all unnerved by her appearance, with the black and green ichor of Metal Head blood dripping down her armor and Masamune. "What's your name?" she asked.

The elf stared at her, long and cold. Keira kept her stance neutral, refusing to be intimidated by this fellow. She had faced down a lot during her time in this future, including her own husband in his darker moments. She refused to blink, even though she knew that he couldn't see her eyes.

"Enough." Tarath took a step in-between the two of them. He looked at the elf, "Please, your hostility is unwarranted. If we had wanted to destroy you, we would have sat back and let the Metal Heads do it for us. Do not confuse us with your enemy, for they are our foes as well."

More Channelers were stepping out into the open, and Jak found himself amazed at how many were present. Just in this square he was able to count more than fifty, and there might be more inside of the building, holding back where he couldn't see them.

The other elf seemed to relent to a degree. He reached up and took off his helmet, showing that his hair matched his eyes. Whether it was natural or not, Jak couldn't tell.

"My name is Zidon," he said, looking back and forth between the three people in front of him, "and for the moment, I am the leader of these people."

"For the moment?" Keira cocked her head to one side.

"We face frequent assaults by Metal Heads, you never know when the reaper's going to come for you." Zidon chuckled bitterly at his own morbid humor, and Jak thought he saw a glimpse beneath the hardened mask on the elf's face. There was something more to this fellow. "I see that you are the same as us. Where were you exiled from?"

There was a moment of silence as Jak and Keira exchanged a glance between the two of them.

"They come from a city that was founded by a Channeler," Tarath stepped in, "and they have come to offer you an alliance on their behalf."

With the perimeter secure, and with the gunships watching for approaching hostiles, Jak finally felt it safe enough to remove his helmet. He popped the seal, and took it off. Keira followed suit a moment later. As always, Zidon did a double take when he saw their eyes. Then he bristled. "An alliance? With the outside world? With the people who turned their backs on us, left us out here to die, and even actively hunted us down?" A fist clenched and hate seethed in his eyes.

"They are not like the ones who wronged you-" Tarath began.

"And you would know, wouldn't you, Ancient?" Zidon turned his wrath on the Precursor. "Yeah, we know what you are, and you're no better than the other elves. Where were you guys when the Metal Heads hunted us down ruthlessly just because we had your blood running through our bodies? Where were you guys when we were lost and alone? Huh? Answer us!"

"You want the truth?" Tarath folded his arms across his chest. "Then you are entitled to it after all these years." A black orb formed around him, and when it faded, he was back in his ottsel form, hovering four feet or so above the ground. The Channelers that had gathered around all took a step back away from him. "The story is long, though, and our time is short, so please, listen carefully."

* * *

Zidon leaned back against a building. The elf was brooding, thinking about all that he had been told in the past few minutes. Tarath still hovered before him, his dreadlocks and tail twitching slightly, The Channeler's violet eyes drifted from him to Keira, then Jak, and at last, he spoke.

"Very well, you have an alliance," he said. "But I want you to know this: We're going to do this because if we don't then we're all dead. Don't expect anything lasting of it."

The trio nodded, and Tarath opened up a commlink with the base.

"Executor, they have agreed. We'll have a force of Channelers for the final battle. Have we any further progress on how to stop the Day Star?" he asked.

"Ariki has come up with a plan. Its risky, but the payoff could be worth it."

Before he could go on, though, Keira got a beeping noise from her comm.. Confused, she opened it.

"Keira!" It was her father, the connection was filled with white noise and static, though. She couldn't hear much of what was being said. "Spargus… Metal Heads… Under attack…" The connection died immediately after that.

She looked over to Jak, and then both looked to Tarath. The Ancient was already in action though, and one of the gunships swooped down, its gravity lift coming to life.

"Executor, send the transports to this place, I'm taking half our force to try and assist!" He didn't even wait for a reply, dashing into the light and disappearing. The two Ascended Channelers were right behind him.

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, hope that chapter was okay. Not much else that I can think to say, aside from the usual. Hope you all enjoyed it, and thanks for your time. Until next time, have a great day. 


	31. Dogs of War

(Emerges sheepishly)

Well, hello everyone. I know I said I'd try to have this chapter up soon, but fate has been against me, it seems. First, last semister, right before thanksgiving, I made a near failing grade on a major paper because of a technical mishap, which sent me scrambling to recover... followed the very next day by a major hard drive crash that took most of the chapter with it, along with my notes for that semiester, and a whole host of other things such as studying for the GRE and taking and preping for the LSAT.

You will be happy to note, however, that every thing's getting back on track, and the next chapter is already three quarters of the way done.

Thanks again to animedragongirl for her amazing beta reading skills, and I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I must express regret that Hotmail once again ate my bloody mail, so if you had a question you wanted answered, let me know and I'll do my best to answer it.

prays new chapter is not a piece of crap

* * *

Dogs of War

* * *

"Incoming!" 

Kliever ducked his head and swore loudly. Seconds later the ground around him shook and rumbled as an explosive charge went off. Growling, he leaned out from behind the steel and stone barricade that he was taking cover behind, lined up his assault rifle, and let off a four round burst. He had good aim, and a Grunt was dropped and its chest was ripped open by the high velocity rounds. Still, there were thousands more ready to replace it. The Quartermaster grimaced as he watched a group of Crab Heads emerge and unleash their twin blasters upon another pocket of resistance. The Dark Eco weapons cut through the cover that the other Wastelanders were using and seconds later, were unloading on the men and women themselves. Even over the roar and chaos he could hear their screams.

A few of the four-legged creatures turned their attention towards him next. He barely managed to get down before they had lined up his position. Fist sized chunks of metal were blasted away by the weapons fire. Knowing that exposing himself now would mean death, Kliever fired blindly in where he thought they were shooting from. He heard a few growls of irritation, nothing more beyond that.

"Market area here," he shouted into a walkie-talkie. "We're about to get rolled, any available reinforcements would be useful."

He could barely hear the sound of a reply through the static and the white noise. All the weapons fire in the air, all that energy, it was playing hell with the comms. He did get his answer though. There was a loud crackling noise, which reminded him of the thunderclaps he would hear during a rare desert rainstorm--a ball of white-hot lightning shot by him, and then exploded. He heard screams of pain, and a drifting breeze brought the stench of burnt flesh to him. There were a few weak bursts of weapons fire, but when it suddenly stopped, he assumed it must have been the result of the death throes.

"You can stick your head back up now, chili-pepper, but I wouldn't recommend keeping it up for long." He heard Sig's deep voice chuckle over the radio.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" Kliever growled into the comm. unit.

"More than you already have," Sig laughed as he fired off another Peacemaker round.

The Quartermaster just sighed and reloaded his rifle. The Metal Heads were an unending stream, as always. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something different about this attack. The Grunts and Drones were charging their lines with almost fanatical devotion, refusing to break and run, even when their commanders were gunned down and lying in pools of their own lifeblood.

He noticed a formation of Centurions advancing off to his eastern flank. They had interlocked their shields presenting him with a difficult target it hit. He lined up the sights on his rifle, and took aim. He managed to get one glancing hit in on the hand sized space he had to work with—not bad, considering that they were more than a hundred meters off. Still they kept coming, only now they were turning their fire towards him. He grumbled. Sig needed to conserve the ammunition for his weapon, and they were well outside the range of any kind of hand grenade he had.

He heard a double shockwave and watched as one of the Centurions seemed to suddenly fly apart. Now with a larger hole in their lines, Kliever sighted them up once again. He smiled grimly as he put a four round burst into one of the creatures. It howled and keeled over, twitching and spasming, its dark blood dripping all over the ground.

"That's two you owe me," Seth said through the radio.

"Suppose you're right," the quartermaster kept firing, trying to keep them from getting back in formation. It didn't work. They were more disciplined than he'd ever seen them before.

"Wait till they get closer then try to use a grenade, I've got to save ammo for commanders." Seth's rifle gave off another double shockwave, and a line of Metal Head soldiers splattered as the hypersonic round tore into them and kept on going.

"What bore are you using?" Kliever could not believe the destruction that he was witnessing.

"The twenty five, with penetrator rounds, and a few high explosives just in case," Seth yelled back. "Figured I might as well go for broke."

Kliever would have sputtered if he'd had any moisture in his mouth to do it with. Twenty-five millimeters, Seth was firing off bullets nearly as big around as his fist! Those were normally reserved for Marauder vehicles. Still, he could see the advantage to using them against massed infantry.

Still, even though a normal attack force would have broken and run before the fury of the coordinated defenses that the Wastelanders were putting up, the Metal heads kept pressing forward. Such fanaticism had to mean something, but what?

Then he saw it. Faintly, at the far edge of a bluff, but quickly approaching-- an airship of some kind, but like nothing he had ever seen before. It was smooth, sleek, and very quiet, and he could see weapons turrets sticking off of the hull. The hairs on the back of the elf's neck stuck up, an old instinctive warning from eons long past. There was something… alien about that craft, a feeling that coursed through him that it was not of this world.

It came in at high speed, before pulling up to a hover so quickly that it confirmed Kliever's suspicion of being otherworldly. No vehicle, Wastelander, Freedom League, or otherwise, could have made that stop, not like that. The sheer force of inertia and momentum would have ripped it apart.

Then it started firing.

* * *

Samos closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Around him, the Spargus monks hurriedly prepared defenses and barricades. Weapons were passed out, and every one tried to prepare themselves for the inevitable. The Wastelanders were brave and hardened fighters, but as always, the metal Heads had sheer numbers at their side. This was not going at all like he'd expected. Why had Onin told him to come out here? What was it that the old seer had expected him to find? Death, destruction? Was it his time to die? 

Or was there something more? He had heard the radio chatter. There was something strange about the attacks, the metal Heads refused to break, no matter how hard they were repulsed. He had studied the creatures all of his life. While they were usually tenacious and utterly implacable, he had never heard of them throwing themselves into a meat grinder like they were now. There had to be something here, something that they wanted.

He looked over to Seem. The girl was meditating, calmly breathing in and out. Motes of Eco would occasionally spark and dance around her, betraying her heritage. The old Sage's eyes narrowed, and he walked over to her. Next to her, a trio of monks erected a metal barricade, between those and the rooms many columns, they hoped to provide themselves with enough cover to at least make a dent in the enemy's numbers.

Give them a black eye before being completely overrun.

"What is it you want, Sage?" Seem cracked an eye open, but her breathing remained tranquil and even regardless.

"Why are they attacking like this?" he looked her dead in the eye, giving her the glare that had made so many wither before it. "Don't even try to give me the run-around, girl. The Metal Heads are ferocious, but they've never charged like mad beasts before. You have something they want. What is it?"

Seem remained silent for a few, pensive moments, and then she rose up. "Follow me," she said.

Samos fell in step behind her, stumbling for a moment as a massive rumble shook the building. He looked back towards the entrance and then to Seem. The girl was remarkably calm. "They are coming," was all that she told him.

She reached a series of stairs that led down into the heart of the building. Samos didn't know where they were going, but he suspected after a few moments that they had to be close to the heart of the mountain upon which Spargus was built. Eventually, the staircase came to an end and he saw two things sitting before him. The first was a large container, sealed against the elements, about the size of his head. The second was a cylindrical device that was nearly half his size. There was a control panel on it, but he couldn't read the characters on the buttons.

"What are these?"

"Precursor technologies," Seem said, her voice quiet. She slowly looked over at the elderly Sage. "My people found them months ago in the desert—in a series of Precursor ruins, shortly before the first of the Fallen probes started to return. The container has a number of crystals in it—"

"Eco?" he asked, scratching at his beard. It didn't make much sense for the Metal heads to attack over a handful of those. They were rare and powerful, but there were easier ways to obtain them.

"No, we believe that they are data caches or some kind of computer memory matrix. The other is some kind of weapon. We were hoping to study them and learn their secrets, perhaps use them against our enemies." Seem hung her head, and closed her eyes. "It would seem, though, that we are too late. They have discovered these, and they will slaughter us all to get them."

Screams started to filter through the radio that Seem had on herself.

"Ship approaching, unknown class—" static and white noise drowned out the rest of the statement. More voices replaced it.

"It's killing everything!"

"Fall back, fall back!"

"What the hell is that thing?"

Then came a voice that both recognized: Sig's.

"It's dropping something out of the bottom…" his voice trailed off. Seem's attention was focused solely upon that, Samos could tell. She wasn't blinking, she wasn't breathing, moving, just standing there, still as a statue.

"Go help them," Samos growled, yanking the radio out of her hand and startling her out of her daze. She gave him a look. "Go! I'll protect these artifacts."

Seem's legs took control before her mind could reason out what she was being told. She dashed off, desperate to aid her brother. Samos frowned and tapped his staff into the stone floor. It was times like this that he wished that he had more offensively oriented powers. He still had some powers though, and any Metal Heads that came down here would be in for a rude surprise.

* * *

The ship kept firing, sending Wastelanders scrambling about. Whole sections of the city were reduced to molten rock and vaporized metal, the elves inside along with them. Sig could hear the roar of the Metal Heads behind them, and knew that whatever this ship was, it belonged to them. He found what passed for decent cover in a small cave bored into the side of the mountain, and prepped his Peacemaker. Hopefully, the thing would just try to open up the gate for the ground pounders, and after that, it would move on. 

Amid the chaos that the battlefield the large elf saw a light come from the ship. He stared at the blue white light that came from inside, captivated by it. Then he realized that something was descending. It was difficult for him to make it out so he pulled out his binoculars.

"It's dropping something out of the bottom," he said as he brought them to his eyes.

The thing that came out was large, larger than any elf he'd ever seen. It was covered in heavy gold armor plating, rounded and smooth. A black visor covered its face, and in its right hand it held a large spear-like weapon.

"Holy gods," Sig breathed as he recognized the figure.

The Precursor bolted forward, angling off away from the drop ship. Motes and blobs of yellow energy formed and pulsed around it. Sig raised his weapon to fire, recognizing an Eco charge up. Other Wastelanders beat him to the punch, and tracer rounds filled the air. With agility far beyond anything he'd seen before, save Valthos or Jak, perhaps, the soldier twisted and turned, evading fire. A few rounds connected, but they bounced harmlessly off of the armor plates.

Then the Precursor retaliated. Spearheads of light flashed away from it, heading in a dozen different directions. The first shots connected with buildings along the upper ridge of the volcano. The structures, built of stone and metal that had weathered Metal Head attacks, Marauder raids, and sand storms that would flay the flesh from living creatures imploded as if hit by a laser guided bomb. The other bolts continued along, guided by some unseen hand, hitting pockets of Wastelander resistance. The gunfire from those locations was silenced in an instant.

Horror like he never knew it welled up inside of him. Sig had seen Jak in action so many times, he knew what it was like to pit an ordinary group of soldiers against a Channeler—a massacre at best usually—and now here was that kind of nightmare turned against them.

The gunship up above kept firing down on the defensive fortifications, turning metal and stone aline into molten slag with the power of its weapons. The light came again, and the burly Wastelander realized that more of the soldiers were dropping out of the ship's belly. Two, three, a dozen, a score… he lost track after thirty.

The metal heads let out another collective roar and suddenly surged forward, rushing the shattered remnants of the Wastelander defensive line.

"Kliever, Seth, get everyone the hell out of here!" he shouted into the radio.

"Already complying, big guy," Seth replied back. "Most of the troops have taken shelter in the caves. Hopefully they won't try to bomb us back to the Stone Age and seal us all in here."

"And you are?" He trailed off.

"Hold still, golden boy, you're mine," Sig heard his friend whisper.

The gold armored Precursor suddenly lurched in midair and went spinning as two explosions lit it up. Dead on shots by high explosive, anti-material rounds from Seth's rifle. The rounds were designed to tear right through the armored hull of Marauder heavy vehicles, and then detonate inside. The bullets should have ripped the Precursor to pieces. The Ancient, though, righted itself after less than a second, and fired off a trio of yellow Eco pulses towards where Seth was hiding. Its armor was barely scratched.

"Gods!" Sig focused his cybernetic eye in on where the lanky Wastelander was, and saw him running, his rifle slung over his back.

The place where he had fired ceased to exist half a second later, reduced to a glass crater. Another barrage followed just as he saw Seth duck into the escape tunnel. Within moments, the concussive force of the Eco blasts had sealed it off.

"Seth, you still alive?" Sig whispered, staring up at the Fallen Precursor with a sense of awe.

"A little cooked, but otherwise I'm fine," He replied. "By all that's holy…"

"I know, they're tough bastards, apparently." Sig leaned out just a tad, just enough to get a good view of what was going on. The additional Precursor forces had joined up with the Metal Heads that were assaulting the city, and Wastelander defenses were crumbling before them.

A glowing rock the size of a man's body went sailing through the air before it exploded with the force of a half-ton bomb. One of the smaller, blue warriors with a double bladed staff penetrated a defensive trench. Men and women were cast aside like rag dolls by some unseen force. Their bodies hit stone and slid broken to the ground, whereas others were impaled upon metal construction frames that the attack had ripped apart. Still others were sliced to pieces by its melee weapon, which moved so fast that Sig couldn't even keep track of it. His mechanical eye focused on a warrior as it threw its stave. It whirled through the air like a buzz saw, cutting off one man's arm as he tried to dive out of the way. Another didn't move fast enough, and was cut clean in half. At the same time, the Precursor turned and leapt a full ten meters through the air, landing in front of a Wastelander who had been sighting him up. Sig saw the warrior take two rounds of rifle fire to the gut, but the slugs did not even scuff the surface. The other elf opened his mouth to scream in terror, but was suddenly silenced by the Precursor landing a mighty punch to his middle. Sig swore he could hear the crack of the Wastelander's ribcage as it shattered before the force of the blow. The armored fist kept going, piercing skin, flesh, sinew, bone, and finally emerging out of the other side of the man's chest.

All of it happened in about half a second. How could something that big move that fast? Sig shuddered for one of the few times in his life. Then he noticed something. The drop ship that had deposited all the enemy soldiers was slowing down, and from where he was, looked like it was heading for the Monastery.

"Seem!" he scarcely dared to breathe.

No, he had already lost too much in this attack; he would not lose his sister, too. He bolted from his hole, moving as fast and stealthily as he could, trying to do everything in his power to stay out of sight of the enemy forces.

* * *

Kerrog leapt to the side to dodge the aim of the Wastelander that was shooting at him. The high velocity rounds made a loud popping noise as they sped by him. He was pretty certain they posed no threat to him, but it would be foolish to underestimate an enemy like this. If there was one thing the Hora-quan had told him since his arrival, it was that elves were resourceful, clever little devils. His own observations regarding operations in Haven further reinforced those reports. 

He fired off a burst of White Eco in the direction of the man. The high-powered energy bolt vaporized him in an instant, leaving nothing but ash and superheated stone where his foe had once been. He raised a shield in front of himself a moment later as the screech of a rocket-propelled grenade reached his ears. The world around him flashed and roared a second later. As the shield lowered he blitzed forward, sending out energy blasts and took out a full half dozen individuals at a go. He closed on the elf that had fired at him, and with a flick of his wrist, his blade was out. The Wastelander saw the attack coming and reached for an axe that he had on his back. His movements appeared slow, though, sluggish to the Precursor, as if he was moving through mud. The weapon hadn't even cleared its holster when Kerrog swung, cleaving the man in half from collarbone to hip.

Blood gushed everywhere as he turned, sighted up another grouped of elves, and let fly at them. The ball of Light Eco exploded spectacularly and consumed a Wastelander fire team.

"_Exalted one, we are encountering stiff resistance over by their motor pool," _A Hora-quan commander growled to him over their communications line.

"Kaliek, bring the gunship in, I want those vehicles reduced to slag, along with any who defend them." Kerrog flipped back out of the way of another barrage of bullets, zipping behind the cover of a building and switching through the sensor suite of his helmet. He located the source of the gunfire, a third story building that was occupied by a Wastelander fire team. Submachine guns, assault rifles, and shotguns were all firing out into the ranks of his troops, who were more than willing to return the favor.

The Archon felt deep within himself, the familiar tingle that pulsed and wove its way through his body as he summoned up his power. The Light Echo flashed down to his hand and formed itself into a pulsing orb. He roared, ducked out from behind his cover for a moment, and released the attack. It formed an energy beam that streaked towards its target and blasted into it. The Fallen Precursor gave a flick of his wrist, and sent the energy lashing across the entire structure. The top of the building collapsed downward as the floor he'd hit disintegrated before the onslaught of his attack.

He could sense a slow, rising panic in the elves that were here. They were not broken by fear, or routing—not that they'd have anywhere to run—but he could see a slight increase in desperation as his forces pressed slowly inward. They fired their weapons in longer bursts, and were starting to get less choosy with their targets. A Zealot, Carion, charged past where he stood, unleashing gouts of living flame upon the defenders. Bullets rained in around him and while some hit him, many missed. Their rising dread was causing a noticeable decrease in their accuracy.

The gunship made a pass overhead, and the gravity lift opened up. Kerrog nodded his head as he dropped the final member of the assault team down.

Errol landed, his blade already out, and immediately sprinted towards the heaviest bit of resistance he could find. The Ascended Channeler unleashed a torrent of Dark Eco upon the inhabited building, and even from where he was, Kerrog could hear the screams of the defenders as the substance ate them alive.

Errol laughed over the comm. channel, before more Dark Eco attacks went flying. The elf was quickly moving about on a rampage, heading for the target building. There was a dug in group of Wastelanders trying to defend it, hiding up amongst the cliffs and in a few dug in trenches. Unlike the ones before, these ones showed no panic, no rising desperation. Calm, cool, in control. Perhaps some kind of elite warrior force? Kerrog thought to himself. The painted faces and strange uniforms would lend themselves to such a theory.

Errol tore through them like a blade. His armored form blurred through their ranks, evading fields of fire, slaughtering them at will with his powers. The screams were horrific for him to hear, and the Precursor winced slightly. Still, it would be over soon, people didn't live long after exposure to Dark Eco. Their suffering would be brief.

The doors suddenly burst open, and a new force of the Wastelander soldiers poured out. They were abandoning their defenses, coming out into the open, simply because they could not bear to hear the screams of their comrades. Admirable, noble, but ultimately foolhardy.

Errol simply blitzed past them. There was no need to engage. What they were after was below. Kerrog prepared himself. He would handle these defenders.

"Kaliek, bring the gunship around and assault their northern flanks, I want us to close this up ASAP," He ordered as he lifted up into the air and charged towards the enemy.

The Wastelanders spotted him immediately, and they opened fire. Kerrog retaliated with a pair of Light Eco orbs that detonated among their ranks. At the edges of the blast, body parts went flying while from the center nothing was left of the men who had been there but ash slowly drifting down from the sky. Half a second later, he had closed to melee range. The Archon made sure to prioritize his targets, starting with the ones who had shotguns, and moving up from there. The first man he sliced in half across the waist with his cryosis blade. The mono-edged weapon parted armor, flesh, and bone as if it wasn't even there, sending blood splattering all over his pristine white armor.

He felt a smattering of impacts across his side, and grunted slightly as the armor piercing rounds hit him. Twisting, the Archon fired off another Eco attack that swiftly silenced his opposition. A vaulting leap put him near the next group, a trio of elves that were protecting the left flank of the structure. He impaled the first one, his blade diving in-between the third and fourth ribs, piercing the Wastelander's heart and ending his life almost instantly. Kerrog then twisted, bringing his triple jointed leg up and smashing it into the face of the second. Bones snapped and shattered before the force of the blow and the woman crumpled to the ground. The third, still trying to orient his weapon on the fast moving target, found the first victim's body thrown into him. He went down with a grunt, easy prey for the killing machine that hovered above him. Kerrog stabbed his blade home. The elf twitched and spasmed for a few seconds, and then ceased twitching.

The battlefield around him was silent for a brief moment, and then he heard a high pitched whine right before something slammed into him like a super heated sledgehammer. Kerrog growled in surprise as he was smashed through one of the stone pillars of the building. Grumbling, he rose up, and shook his head to get his dreadlocks out of his face. There was a small elf in front of him, female by his guess. Yellow Eco crackled over her hands and there was a look of absolute hate in her eyes. A Channeler. A descendant of the hybrid soldiers that their estranged brothers had created. She would be a formidable opponent, but there was something missing.

She was unarmed aside from a rifle, which Kerrog knew would be little threat to him. He looked around, and saw that one of the warriors he'd just slain had a well forged long sword still sheathed. He moved up bent down, and drew it out. Then he tossed it towards her. It landed two feet in front of her, sinking into the stone and sand.

Seem stood in shock, though she did not dare to take her eyes of her fearsome adversary. He was giving her a weapon. The white armored warrior nodded towards the blade, and then took a step back, his weapon angled behind him. Slowly, Seem stepped forward and took the blade up. It was awkward to hold in her hands; she'd never had much skill with them before. Perhaps if she used it to channel her Eco down, it might serve a purpose? She took a breath, and prepared herself.

The Precursor blurred forward, and the monk tried to think of what would be his most likely strike. However, it was not to come to pass.

A screech reached both of their ears, and Seem turned to see another ship come streaking in. From its bottom a black blur emerged and came straight at her foe like some kind of armored missile. The Precursor barely had time to get his sword up before the other one smashed into him. The two weapons grated harshly against one another, sending sparks flying as they heaved back and forth. Dark and Light Eco pulsed and crackled around them, and the crimson eyes of the black one flared to where Seem could see them behind the visor.

"Brother… I was wondering when you might join the battle." The white one said. He seemed to focus for a second. "By the gods… what did Xadec do to you?"

The dark one remained silent, instead shifting his weight to the right and sliding his foe's blade out of the way. This was followed up by a kick that sent him clean through the wall of the Monastery.

"I have been reforged, Kerrog, so that I could fight against the abominations that your comrades created." He floated up in the air, and waited for the other to rise. He did so soon enough.

"At the expense of your very soul, Tarath? Where does the machine end and the Precursor begin?" Kerrog shook himself to clear some of the rubble from his armor.

"A warrior's life is sacrifice, Kerrog," said the dark one as he landed slightly, his legs spread. "I do not enjoy my new state of being, but it is a price I must pay for my failures."

Kerrog leapt up and dashed in, both of their weapons met in a dazzling series of blurred slashes, parries, thrusts, kicks, and punches. Neither seemed able to breach the other's defenses, though. Seem realized these two were equals, yet opposites of one another.

"Failures?" Kerrog grunted as he moved back and forth. "What failures could you possibly have to atone for? What could you have possibly done that has damned you to your state of death in life?" Seem could feel the poison building in the words. "What foul lies did the Executor feed you to make you believe that you have ever done anything worthy of the fate you have?"

Tarath remained silent but instead charged up a series of Dark Eco attacks and sent them towards his foe at point blank range.

Kerrog's rage had clouded his foresight; he never saw it coming. The Fallen Archon screamed in agony as bolts of dark lightning coursed over his armor, cracking, melting, and blasting portions of it off. A ray of pure whiteness followed. Tarath managed to dodge it and an instant later, it carved out a small tunnel in the rocky cliffs that made up the city.

Seem understood. The white armored one was hurt, but far from finished.

Suddenly there was a new blur, though, black and green. Seem instinctively leapt backwards as she recognized the dark figure that had penetrated their defenses only a minute earlier. Except now he held two things: the first was the data crystal cache that Samos had been protecting, and the second was Samos himself. The old Sage was unconscious and looked significantly worse for the wear.

"I've got what we came for, let's get out of here!" the… thing, for it wasn't a Precursor at all. shouted.

Kerrog broke off from his brother and instant later as both of them dashed away. Tarath moved to follow, but the gunship suddenly came in and blasted away at his position. Cursing, the Reaver bolted, taking the time to scoop up Seem before the ground around them was turned into a glass wasteland.

Then the ship fled, rushing back over the battle to pick up the Precursors that were still alive. The Metal heads also began to pull back, Crab Heads and Centurions laying down cover fire as the rest of them retreated.

"Praetor, shall we pursue?" one of Tarath's subordinates radioed in.

"Negative, there are too many of them. They could be expecting it and trying to lure us into a trap." Tarath looked around and saw Jak and Keira standing in the thick of things. Dozens of corpses, hacked down or blasted apart, lay before them, and the ground near their feet was bathed in blood. A handful of armored corpses were in amongst the Metal Head ranks, but casualties from both Precursor forces had been fairly light.

Tarath landed and set Seem down. The young Channeler immediately walked towards the two Ascended ones.

"We have a problem, a big one." She said simply to them.

"What is it?" Keira asked, while she wiped some Hora-quan ichor off of her blade.

"They retreated because they got what they came for," Jak interjected, raising a finger. "Whatever it was, it wasn't good for us."

"They came for a data chance we discovered some time back… and the one who attack us made off with your father." Seem looked down at the ground. "I don't know who or what it was. A Channeler of some sort, I presume, but not a Precursor. I'm sorry."

Masaume hit the ground butt first, and Keira's fist visibly tightened around it. A few pulses of Eco flashed around her. "Errol." The word came out like it was a poison, and everyone backed away from her, even Jak.

"Describe the data cache," Tarath said, breaking the nervous silence created by Keira's rage. "Where did you get it, what was on it?"

"Some ruins about forty miles north of here," Seem responded. "We had not yet been able to decipher them, as they appeared to be somewhat corrupted by time."

Tarath fell into deep thought while Keira began to clutch at her weapon even harder than before. Her husband tentatively put a hand on her shoulder. She didn't shrug him off, but she didn't calm down either.

"Those are probably data entries on how to perform a terraforming operation," Tarath spoke after a moment or two. "We need to figure out how to retrieve those, but it won't be easy. Not with the Day Star being a heavily armed as it is now."

"We have something else that might be able to help." Someone new said.

Everyone turned to see Valthos emerging from the carnage. Several empty rifles and weapons hung from his body, and his gunblade was covered in blood. "The team also discovered what we think is some kind of bomb."

Tarath's eyes glowed for a moment. "Show me."

* * *

&

* * *

Well, hopefully that wasn't quite as bad as I thought it would be. I'll try to keep this short, as I'm a little tired, and I think I'm coming down with something on account of the fact that my dorm keeps the rooms at a comfortable 35 degrees fahrenhiet. 

As always, feed back is appreciated, as well as constructive criticism, as I need to improve, desperately. Ideas and suggestions, or things that you'd like to see are welcomed as always. I'll leave you guys with that, and hope that you all have a great week.


	32. Retaliation

Okay, I won't bother trying to excuse myself. I'll just let you know that I've had serious problems with the latter portions of this chapter. I can't seem to make them flow like I used to be able to, and its bugging me to no end.

I can only offer my apologies, and the one small glimmer of hope that my creativity bits seem to be hitting me in waves lately, so I've decided to go with those as I can. This has resulted in me opening up another story and paying back a friend of mine with a requested tale. With luck, my creativity will soon flux back here, and I can get back to turning out chapters every three days like I used to be able to, rather than every three weeks (glares at himself)

At any rate, I tried to answer your questions, and if I've failed or messed something up, please let me know. Once again, I want everyone to know that you have my sincerest thanks for taking the time to read the dregs that I turn out, and my gratitude goes out to you.

Lawyers: see previous chapters of disclaimers, I grow weary of having to always write these up.

* * *

&

* * *

Retaliation

Tarath stared down at the device in front of him. It was tubular, though it tapered down at the ends, black in color, and about three feet long by one foot around. He saw a scarcely noticeable seam around the front edge of it, and reached down. He carefully pried it open, and saw that there was a small keyboard there, Precursian script telling him that they were numbers. He nodded to himself. Just as he thought. But he didn't tell anyone what it was… no need to get their hopes up just yet. The thing had been sitting out here for the better part of ten thousand years, and there was no guarantee that it was still going to even turn on, let alone be capable of proper arming sequence.

Scarcely daring to breathe, the Reaver pressed a few key buttons. There was nothing at first, and then it slowly turned itself on, a small data screen on the right end of the panel opening up and flashing to life. A line of commands popped up, demanding authorization and his identity.

He extended his right hand, and the machine scanned it, then took a measure of his eye. Blanks then appeared, showing a twelve digit long alpha numeric code. Tarath thought back for a moment, trying to remember what each one corresponded too.

"What is it?" Sig asked, coming up behind him.

Tarath shot a hand backwards, a single finger extended in a harsh gesture of silence. He racked his brain a little bit more, and then it all started coming to him. Nodding to himself, the Reaver quickly entered the proper code. The panel flashed green, and then another popped up, which he again entered, and then a third.

Finally, it beeped, and the screen flashed gold. Those who could understand the Precursian characters that flashed next gulped.

_Explosive material armed. Solar Flare active and ready for detonation sequence. _

"Tarath," Jak spoke, his voice scarcely above a whisper, "what the hell is that thing?"

"A bomb… a very _big_ bomb," The Precursor quickly shut it down and picked it up. "I'm amazed that it works after all these years. The engineers and scientists of our people certainly knew how to build things, I will give them that." He paused and looked around at those gathered before him. Valthos' expression was unreadable behind his mask, and most of the others seemed tired. Jak was as well, but his wife… Tarath actually shuddered at the look in her eyes, the blind, unadulterated hate that seemed to be pulsing through her at the moment.

He had seen her before, and it looked so… alien upon her face. He had a feeling though, that it would make his next request all the easier.

"Jak, Keira," he spoke, "I'm going to need you two to come with me. This device here has just changed our odds of winning this little war."

"What do you mean?" the dark Channeler asked, cocking his head to the side and staring at the Reaver intently.

"First, we need to head to your city, and gather up that A.I. you told me about. Vin, right?" Tarath said, waiting till he got an affirmative nod. "Then, we're going to give my little brother a very nasty surprise."

"Brother?" he faintly heard Seem say. Then her eyes lit up with a sudden and terrible understanding. As before, when she had learned of Kerrog's light oriented nature, the Channeler looked utterly stunned.

"Adoptive." The Reaver said, and then walked out, the Solar Flare tucked safely under one arm.

Jak and Keira moved to follow, and then, surprisingly, so did Valthos.

"What are you doing?" Keira asked as she turned and looked at the Wastelander King.

"Taking the fight to the enemy," the masked elf growled. "These… Fallen Ones, or whatever the hell they are, just showed up, killed hundreds of my people, destroyed my city, and have left us to the mercy of the desert. I can't let that go unanswered."

"You saw how effective your weapons were against them, Valthos," Jak said, shaking his head. "Throwing more people into a meat grinder isn't going to help you."

"I'm going, not my people," he turned to Sig. "You're in charge until I get back, Sig."

"Let him come," Tarath said. "Much as it pains me to involve you any more than you already are, we are going to need all the firepower we can get."

* * *

It did not take very long to return to Haven City. Jak and Ashelin were in a furious discussion.

"So Samos has been captured, half of Spargus reduced to slag, and now you're telling me that our enemy has everything they need to start a terraforming procedure that will ultimately leave this planet devoid of life?" The Governess muttered, resting her hands against her forehead. She turned to Onin, who was in her meditative stance. "And you, you sent Samos out there! Didn't you see what was going to happen?"

Onin opened an unseeing eye, and a flash of symbols appeared before her.

"The ways of the future are clouded," Pecker said, tapping his feathers together. "Not everything is seeable, especially in this time of chaos. Onin regrets that she was unable to foresee this complication, but ultimately, it is possibly for the greater good."

"How so?" Keira growled. "My father's in the hands of a psychopathic egomaniac and a Precursor who can't seem to see the consequences of his actions. For all we know they could be torturing him while we stand around discussing this like politicians."

"They aren't, I assure you," Tarath turned and crossed his arms over his chest. The Reaver was in his Ottsel form, floating a few feet off the ground. "Kerrog has forgotten much in his time away from here, but his honor is not one of those things. He will not allow a prisoner of war to be harmed. Doubtless, though, he intends to try and get information from your father, and perhaps use him as a bargaining chip to keep you from interfering in the upcoming battle, or keep us from trying to utilize some kind of anti-orbital defense to smash the Day Star out of the sky."

"He thinks we're that great of a threat?" Jak muttered under his breath.

_**He has seen us in action before, heard of our exploits from his Metal Heads and Death Bots. I think that he realizes we are capable of shifting the battle away from his favor. **_Kage wrapped his wings tightly around himself like a cloak as he answered Jak silently.

_I suppose that you're right," _Jak replied

"I'll ready the home guard," Ashelin said. "Our manufacturing facilities are still in the process of being converted back, but we've still got tanks, and gunships. If it comes down to a ground battle…"

"No, you need to stay out of the conflicts if you can possibly help it." Tarath shook his head. "This is not your battle."

"Not our battle?" Ashelin glared daggers at him. "Look, Praetor, your little brother's lackeys have come to us, they have attacked us, destroyed our home, and slaughtered our people." She walked towards the black armored soldier. "So don't try and give me some line about it not being our fight. It's been our fight for generations, ever since you dragged us into this war!"

"Your resentment and anger are not misplaced," Tarath said to her. "But all you will be doing is throwing away the lives of more of your soldiers…" He paused.

"I hate to say it, Ash, but he's right," Jak looked over to his cousin. "We saw how effective our weapons were against them at Spargus. You'd probably need a tank round to crack that armor."

"Our metatron armor shells are designed to withstand direct assaults from Channeling attacks, as well. Your Eco blasters won't have much of an effect on us… they're not optimized for dealing with a Precursor."

"What do you mean?" Torn said, acting a little defensive as he clutched at his rifle.

"When I first helped Mar to learn how to construct Eco based weaponry, it was built like our own weapons. You may have noticed some of the old defensive turrets still up in the lower sections of the city," he noticed that Keira nodded her head. "Ever see them shoot anything?" She again nodded.

"Metal Heads, but there was something different about the wounds…" she trailed off as Tarath nodded in a sagely manner.

"Smaller holes, right? But going in much deeper?" She nodded. "That's because the bolts are more focused, optimized for heavy armor penetration," he glanced around at the others. "Over the five hundred years since Mar founded this place, you've been fighting nothing but Metal Heads. Your weaponry and combat doctrines have evolved to match that threat. You've made your weapons fire bolts that are less coherent and concentrated, that spread their damage out. Ideal for dealing with hordes of Hora-quan charging at you, but it makes breaching a Metatron based defensive suit all but impossible without a massive sustained volume of fire." He looked back to Ashelin and shook his head again. "Prepare your city, and pass out as many heavy weapons as you can, but don't go looking for trouble. Let us lead the charge this time… you deserve that much."

Vin, still in his robotic body, imitated a coughing noise at that moment.

"Tarath and I have been discussing a plan, and I think that we've got one that would work. I'd need to check out the plans of the Day Star a little more before I promise anything, but we might still have a chance in this fight." He looked at Ashelin. "With your permission, Governess, I would like to go with them and see what I can do to help out."

"Go ahead," the Governess said.

Jak and Keira bowed, and quickly followed Tarath and Vin out through the door.

As they left, Ashelin collapsed back in her chair. Her head slumped against the table, and she felt the poundings of a migraine coming. Slowly, she stared up, at the T.V.s around the room, at the papers, files, and reports in front of her, at the tactical and strategic maps of Haven.

"Why does it always seem like the world is trying to collapse around us?" she muttered to herself.

Torn walked up and put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. He didn't say anything, but he knew that this had to be trying. He vaguely wondered if Mar had felt like this when he had first come here.

* * *

Within one of the primary Precursor command centers, surrounded by countless data readouts and computers, Vin poured over the plans from the Day Star, overlapping the original transport design with that of the battle cruiser that it had been converted into. Around him, Jak and Keira were quietly discussing last minute ideas with Tarath while Daxter hung out over in one of the far corners of the room, staring at one of the television monitors that depicted the bustle and activity of the soldiers around the base. Everyone was preparing for the final confrontation; securing hover bikes, double checking weapons, combat routines, and in the case of Ariki and Xadec, plotting out further tactical and strategic assessments of their forces. Still others kept drilling the younger children for their first battle.

The A.I. continued to scan everything he could, searching for a weakness. Every machine, vehicle, aircraft, even organic beings, had their flaws and their drawbacks. It was the result of optimization. If you put more emphasis on a fighter's speed and maneuverability, you had to remove some of the armor or weapons to lighten it up, or slap on bigger engines, which meant more fuel consumption—and thus less time actually spent in battle—and a higher IR signature. Or you tried to mask that, and it added to the cost and complexity of the craft, and limited the number that you could field with the same amount of resources as compared to a less effective, but much cheaper, craft.

"Anything?" Keira asked.

"Well, if these plans are indeed accurate, then we're dealing with a very nasty possibility here," Vin brought a robotic hand up to his chin. "This bomb that we found uses an anti-matter/matter charge, and has enough of a kick to knock out most of Haven… but we're dealing with some serious metallurgy skills here," he gestured to the armored shell of the ship. "hitting it from the outside with this thing won't do much more than give it a need to rebuff the paintjob in the immediate area around the blast site, which means that we're going to have to set it off somewhere inside if we want to take this sucker out of the fight."

"What about the bridge?" Jak asked. "Take out command and control."

"Temporary setback at best," Vin shook his head. "They've got a backup, located far enough away from the main one that a single strike won't take it out. As far as I can tell, our best shot is to try and take out the primary reactor," he gestured to a region near the lower aft of the ship. "If we hit it with that bomb, we just might set off a chain reaction that will take the rest of the ship down. If nothing else, it'll take out about ninety percent of their power generation ability."

"What's the catch?" Keira growled and stepped up nearer to the plan. "You're making it sound too easy."

"Well, there are two catches, really," Vin looked over at her. "The first is distance. That thing's a million or so miles away from us right now, and obviously, a drop-ship's out of the question, as you'd get fragged before you even got close enough to see a docking bay, let alone land in one. That mean's we've got to do it via a warp gate, and the calcs for that won't be easy… If I'm off by so much as one one-thousandth of a percent in my algorithms, you'll pop out in the middle of a vacuum, or worse, some Fallen Precursor might wander along and wonder why in the name of the gods there's an arm sticking out of one of the walls."

"Anything else?" Jak inquired.

"Well, the region around the reactor is pretty heavily armored, so a proximity detonation won't do. You're going to have to actually get the bomb into the primary reactor area, and since the brig's located up here," he highlighted and area that was about half a kilometer away from the reactor, "that means that we're looking at a two team operation here, and I guarantee you, as soon as they figure out what's up, there are going to be soldiers _pouring_ into those two regions."

"A small strike team can quickly move towards the brig," Tarath said, and then pointed to a corridor that ran down the side of the ship. "This is probably our best ingress and evac point. I'd recommend no more than thirty for the assault on the main reactor. If we move fast enough, we should be able to secure it before the crew becomes aware of what we're doing. Holding it becomes just a matter of time."

"How are you planning to detonate the flare?" Vin looked up at the Reaver and crossed his arms.

"Can't risk a remote detonation, there's a possibility the signal might not get through, and that they could disarm it. We'll use a timer." The Praetor said.

Vin cocked his robotic head to the side, but said nothing. "You tell Xadec that we're ready just as soon as he can scrounge up a team."

* * *

While Tarath went off to scrounge up volunteers for the mission, Jak headed over to where Daxter was. The usual, if somewhat dopey, smile was absent from his face. Jak could sense that something was not quite right.

"Hey, buddy, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting down next to the Ottsel and taking off his helmet.

"What makes you think that something's wrong?" Daxter turned and faced him, pasting a smile on his visage as he did so.

"Come on, Daxter. We've known each other since we were six years old. Don't try that with me. Something's eating at you, now what is it?" Jak picked him up and forced Daxter to look into his eyes.

"Everything… finding out what I really am, Samos getting caught by that psycho, Errol, and the knowledge that the world as we know it might be coming to an end, and looking back on everything that's happened." Daxter listed off with a sigh, spinning his hand around in the air for dramatic effect.

"I would have thought that you'd consider that just another day in the line of our work?" Jak made a weak chuckle. All it got him was a glare.

"Laugh it up why don't you," Daxter hissed, his eyes narrowing to slits.

The dark elf raised an eyebrow. The occasional glare was one thing, but he had never heard Daxter use that tone, let alone with his best friend.

"Oh you know exactly what I'm talking about. How many times have you seen me get insulted? How many times did that green faced freak smack me around, literally? How many times… how many times were you having to yank my butt, or tail, out of the line of fire? And now come to find out that I've got the power of the Precursors locked away in me. Hell, that I _am_ a Precursor?" he clenched his tiny hands into fists, and it looked like fires were burning in his eyes. "I've made up my mind."

"What do you mean?" Jak said, he felt a pit forming in his stomach.

"I'm going to Tarath… I'm going to have him and the others do whatever it is they do to turn someone into a full fledged soldier. I'm sick of getting kicked around, sick of being pushed aside like I'm some kind of vermin."

"Daxter, you don't have to prove anything—"

"Damn right, I do." Daxter's voice was barely above a whisper. "I've got a lot to prove… I've got to prove that I'm not a coward, that I can hold my own in a fight, that I'm worth the air that I breathe!"

"You snuck into Praxis' highest security cell block to pull my tail out of the fire, buddy," Jak said in a soothing tone. "When we all got captured at the tomb, it was you that ran off to get Sig. You've proved your worth."

"To you maybe, to Keira, maybe, to Tess…" the fires in his eyes seemed to spread, becoming hotter, fiercer. "But what about Torn, what about Samos? How many times have I been insulted, degraded by them, as being nothing more than a useless speck of fur. Hell, my own _father_ never thought I'd amount to anything more than the next village idiot."

Jak said nothing. This change was very unexpected. He didn't know what to make of it.

"I'm going to go to Tarath just as soon as he's done with his briefing. I probably won't be able to help you guys out on this, but when the time comes for the big showdown, I'm not going to be sitting on the sidelines anymore…" Daxter said, as he hopped down to the floor and made his way towards the exit.

Jak was left staring at him as he left, just blinking.

* * *

Kerrog growled in anger as he stormed through the door into the detention block. Nira was by his side, an occasional bolt of red energy coursing over her armored combat form. He rounded a corner, and found Errol standing in front of an active detention cell, the one that was holding Samos. A pair of Dragoons and another Archon were between the two men, their weapons out and glowing with power.

"What is going on here…" he let his voice trail off dangerously.

"Executor, the Channeler is attempting to violate our treaty codes," the Archon said, not talking his eyes off of Errol.

Kerrog said nothing, but turned his eyes towards the Ascended Channeler. Errol simply snarled and fingered his weapons. "You said you wanted information out of him, right? I want to have a go at him and get that information."

"We have drugs for that, and mental scanners," Kerrog said. "I have read the dossier on you during your time under Baron Praxis, and while I know you're skilled in…" he paused, fumbling for a word, "interrogation, your methods are not necessary in this instance."

"Then let me get started on what was promised to me. You owe me, Kerrog, we had a deal," the elf's voice was simmering with rage and anger.

"Yes, we do have a deal. You help us obtain the codes and data that we need, and once we had our experiments are underway, you get a chance at Jak. Those were our agreements, and our part of the bargain is not yet finished." He glared at Errol, his eyes narrowing behind his visor. "And further, he" he gestured towards Samos, "is not part of that bargain. Stand down immediately."

Errol's snarl sounded more bestial than elfish. Rage and hate burned in the mutated eyes of the former commander. Kerrog frowned behind his helmet and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't sure what to do with Errol. The dark Channeler was rapidly turning into a loose cannon that he was unable to control. He was beginning to regret having to keep him alive this long.

"I could kill you where you stand, you realize that?" Errol said.

Nira took a step forward, bringing her psion claws up to protect her leader. If her hulking, nine and a half foot tall figure intimidated Errol in any way, the former Commander did not let it show.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Kerrog shrugged. "I am ultimately irrelevant. My cause is the important thing here. As for trying to kill me, bear in mind that while you are more powerful than any one individual on this ship, that you are outnumbered more than six thousand to one. Stiff odds, even for you, I would think."

"You think he cares about something like the odds?" Everyone turned to face Samos, who was chuckling at the situation. "Errol is controlled by his base urges. He's always been something of a beast. It's just that now he looks the part."

"Insolent dog!" Errol roared, Dark Eco crackling over his whole body.

"You see what I mean?" the old Sage chuckled. "He responds to things that he doesn't like in a manner similar to a playground bully who isn't getting his way." He tapped his feet against the floor of his holding cell a few times. "Is that really the kind of person you want assisting you in battle, Kerrog?" A bushy, white eyebrow was raised.

The Executor said nothing, but Errol was getting dangerously unstable. Kerrog looked over to the other Precursors, and nodded subtly. They got the message, and before Errol, blinded by his rage towards the old Sage, never saw it coming. He picked him up, and tossed him into another cell, quickly activating the force field inside of it.

"You can stay there till you've cooled off, Errol," Kerrog said, crossing his arms over his chest. Then he turned to Nira. "Come on, we have one final order of business to take care of, and then we can get underway."

* * *

&

* * *

Okay, once more, sorry for the delays, and if anyone has any helpful hints about how to break writer's block, please let me know.

Until next time folks, best of luck, and may life keep you safe and happy.


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